


Hinata Cantabile!!

by Queen_of_Milktea



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Orchestra, Angst, Band Fic, Boarding School, Everyone Is Gay, Fluff, Hinata is a saxophone player, Jealous Kageyama Tobio, M/M, Mild Smut, Oblivious Hinata Shouyou, Roommates, Sawamura Daichi is So Done, Slow Burn, Team Mom Sugawara Koushi, They're all a mess, also everyone is so dumb like im sorry, like it's subtle in the beginning but then it becomes gayyyyy, progressively gets more gay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 18:53:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 47
Words: 86,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24820381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queen_of_Milktea/pseuds/Queen_of_Milktea
Summary: “Woah! You’re a double bassist! Cool!” Hinata's eyes glistened. “I’m a baritone saxophonist!”Kageyama blinked, then scanned him up and down. “You? You’re a baritone sax player?”ORHinata's a baritone sax player who's as tall as his instrument.Kageyama is a renowned double bassist.They're roommates at a boarding school.We all know what happens from here.***It’s a bit of comedy, a bit of drama, and a whole lot of gayness. Instead of volleyball, they play musical instruments, but they're still really chaotic.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Azumane Asahi/Nishinoya Yuu, Ennoshita Chikara/Tanaka Ryuunosuke, Haiba Lev/Yaku Morisuke, Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio, Hinata Shouyou/Kozume Kenma, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou, Kuroo Tetsurou/Tsukishima Kei, Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi, Tendou Satori/Ushijima Wakatoshi, Tsukishima Kei/Yamaguchi Tadashi
Comments: 410
Kudos: 555





	1. Toccata and Fugue in D minor

This was it for him. Hinata’s future. Resting inside the rustic, old timey building in the middle of a thick forest. 

He gulped, then swung his baritone sax case over his shoulder as he entered the tall building. He couldn’t wait. Competitions, practising, his new bandmates. The possibilities were endless. And that thought lingered in his mind in every waking moment.

The hallway of his dorm was in complete chaos. There was screaming. Brass blasting and echoing from room to room. Shirtless guys racing each other. Hinata smiled. This sort of ruckus was exactly what he loved about music. It was creativity, freedom and passion all in one swoop.

He arrived at 110. And he gripped his case a little tighter. It was his new room. Where he'd make all these unforgettable memories for the next 3 years of his life. Excitement ran through his veins. Who was his roommate? Maybe someone really excitable and hyper like him. Or maybe someone really cool and collected. Hopefully someone nice. Fingers crossed that it’s a brass player. _Please, please, please be a brass player._

Hinata twisted the door knob and was instantly hit with a rich, bass sound. A tall brunette stood in the middle of the room, calmly playing his double bass. He was so entranced. It was like he was in another world. His eyes thinned. His fingertips gliding along the strings. 

The melody was technically perfect. He had every note under his fingers, including all the runs. Distinct tenuto and staccato. His phrases mirrored what was on the page to the tee. It left Hinata dazed. 

The brunette lowered his bow, exhaling as he nonchalantly propped it against his bed.

Hinata closed his agape mouth.

“Hey,” he began, and the bassist looked towards him. Hinata brightened, his speechlessness melting into complete excitement as he literally leaped towards him. “I’m Hinata Shouyou! I’m your new roommate!”

The brunette stumbled backwards, hesitating to shake Hinata’s hand. “Uh…” he cleared his throat. “Kageyama Tobio.”

He weakly shook the shorter boy’s hand. His grip was loose and reluctant like a dead fish. But it made Hinata just grab his hand that much harder. 

“Woah! You’re a double bassist! Cool!” his eyes glistened. “I’m a baritone saxophonist!”

Kageyama blinked, then scanned him up and down. “You? You’re a baritone sax player?”

He knitted his brows together, tightening his hands into fists. “Yeah,” he stomped. “What’s wrong with me?”

“You’re…tiny.”

Hinata got that comment a lot. His instrument was as tall as he was. And everyone constantly mocked him for it. _Can you even pick it up? What are your long tones like? You’re like the same size as that thing!_ But it didn’t matter how tall he was. He was still here at Karasuno Academy, studying music like everyone else.

“Can you make a sound?” he sneered, holding his own instrument by the neck. It was like he was flaunting how tall he was against his instrument. Like he was bragging about how much control he had over his instrument, unlike Hinata who could barely press down on all the keys. 

_God, he was like everyone else_ —Hinata thought, gritting his teeth. 

“Yeah I’m small, but I can play,” he said confidently. Kageyama took a step back.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,”

“Oh yeah!?”

“YEAH!

“OH—!”

_Knock knock._

They shut up and whipped their attention towards the entrance. Two boys stood by the doorframe. One blonde and the other with black hair. Despite exchanging no words, the air swelled with hostility.

“We just wanted to introduce ourselves,” the black haired one spoke, his freckled cheeks lifting from glee. He was slightly shorter than his partner, but still towering over Hinata. “I’m Yamaguchi Tadashi. And this is Tsukki—”

“Tsukishima Kei,” the blonde corrected. He wore rectangular glasses that framed his squinted eyes and thinned out lips. 

“I’m Hinata Shouyou!” he waved excitedly, borderline blocking Kageyama. 

Tsukishima dismissed them, until he noticed Kageyama tucked away in the corner, polishing the body of his double bass. That’s when he shifted into a smirk. “Kageyama?” the brunette peered up. "What is _“the Prince of Music”_ doing here?” 

The bassist shot a stern look. “Don’t call me that.”

“ _”The Prince of Music”_?” Hinata looked at Kageyama then Tsushima, then back at Kageyama. “Wait, you’re famous?!”

“Famously hard to work with,” the blonde taunted. “He plays too loudly in an orchestra, he shouts at his section for not “playing _with _him”—”__

__“Shut up,”_ _

__“—and he didn’t get the title from his playing. It's because he thinks everybody is beneath him," Kageyama grew angrier and angrier with each word. "Fitting for Oikawa to be the king though.”_ _

__“Don’t mention him.”_ _

__Hinata stood there, completely perplexed. Yamaguchi gave a look of _‘yeah, get used to it’_. Hinata didn’t grow up in the “music scene”. He was mostly self-taught, with occasional help from the neighbourhood concert band. So he wasn’t aware of all the names or the titles. He only cared about the musician themselves._ _

__And Kageyama, albeit an asshole (a really stupid asshole), he’s good. He’s really good. Really, really good._ _

__“I guess we’ll see how good you really are at orchestra. Right?” Tsukishima adjusted his glasses, his patronising tone made even worse by how tall he was. The way he glared at them instantly lit a fire inside of them. Kageyama's ears fumed. He was a tick away from grabbing him by the hair and—_ _

__“I’ll see you guys later,” Yamaguchi tried to clean it up as best as possible before he shut the door and sighed._ _

__Kageyama and Hinata stood there in silence. One with his blood boiling. And the other with his fingertips jolting in excitement._ _

__"I don't know who he is," Kageyama started, walking towards his double bass. "But I'm going to destroy him with my playing."_ _

__Hinata nodded, reaching towards his own case. "I can't wait for the first rehearsal."_ _

__And for the first time, Kageyama smiled a little towards him. They didn't need any words between them, because they both knew that their room was about to erupt from their playing._ _

__Hinata hated this "Prince of Music" guy, but it would be so much sweeter when he recked him._ _


	2. Overture of Candide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hinata goes to his first orchestra rehearsal. He's pretty out of his element.

Hinata gripped his case tightly towards his chest. The hall was completely filled with students, all unpacking their instruments. He had never seen so many flutes, bassoons and french horns. He was used to the standard small concert band — 3 flutes, 3 clarinets, maybe a trombone if they’re lucky. He didn’t realise how many violins there were in an orchestra. Heck, he barely knew what violins sounded like.

And it made him nauseous. Really nauseous. _Everyone was so much more experienced and they all seemed to know what they were doing. Where was he supposed to sit? Where are the other saxophones?_ Hinata clutched his stomach, on the verge of hurling all over his case.

“Hey? You’re a first year, right?” a gentle voice asked. Hinata looked over to find a boy with softer features and grey hair smiling at him.

“Y-Yes! Hinata Shouyou!” he robotically shot out his arm. “Nice to meet you!”

The grey haired boy chuckled, taking his hand and shaking it. Almost like he was talking to a little toddler. “I’m Sugawara Koushi. I’m a co-band captain,” Hinata panicked and quickly bowed. Sugawara snickered and patted his head. “Hey, hey it’s okay. You don’t need to be so nervous.”

Hinata felt a little at ease. Enough for him to calmly piece together his mouthpiece into the body of his saxophone.

“You play the baritone? Can you...?” he snorted a little. Not snobbily, but more in an endearing way. “Lift it up?”

Nevermind. He felt like puking again.

“Wait no! I think that’s amazing,” Sugawara rushed to awkwardly pat his back, which made it look more like he was flapping about like a concerned parent. “Look Hinata! Look over there.”

The smaller boy peered up from his hunch. Sugawara was pointing towards a massive guy at the back—one of the tallest, leanest teens that Hinata had seen. He was a literal giant with massive feet that could trample him. And he brandished a “wild” mane.

“Yeah he’s Azumane Asahi. He’s a giant right?” as he asked, Hinata nodded stiltedly. “And look at his instrument,” as the giant turned around, a thin, silver flute sat in his palms. He looked like he could’ve easily snapped it, and yet he was holding it so delicately. It was like he had precise control over it. “It doesn’t matter if you're short or tall. If you can play, you can play. And if you’ve made it to Karasuno Academy, I’m sure you can play.”

Sugawara slapped him on the back before grabbing his clarinet and sitting in the middle of the ensemble. By then, other students began to take their positions within the band. Hinata spotted one saxophonist in the crowd and followed him religiously towards their seats. He was around the back, near the other bass instruments and percussion.

A tall brunette with a cello bow in his hands (who Hinata guessed was the other co-captain) walked up to the podium.

That’s when he realised how different (and hard) orchestra was. Firstly, they tuned to concert A instead of B flat. Secondly, they took turns to tune; from bass to soprano. And _wow_ Hinata was flat. He never realised how off he was until he was sat next to all the other students who tuned like it was an innate trait.

“So, I’d like to give a big welcome to all the first years,” the room erupted with applause. “I’m Sawamura Daichi, one of the band captains alongside Sugawara and I’m excited for a new year with the Karasuno Symphonic Orchestra. Now,” he rubbed his hands together. “Just a couple of introductory things to get out of the way; we have a concert coming up with some neighbouring schools in the province. It’s a great way to kick off the year. But of course, the most important is the spring festival. Placing there means making it to Nationals and—”

“Yeah! Nationals!” a call echoed from the brass section.

“Thanks Tanaka,” he laughed it off. “But yes, we’d love to make it to Nationals this year and I’m sure we will with some hardwork and determination. Thanks.”

Replacing his positions was the conductor, Ukai Sensei. Hinata had seen his face plastered on the school announcement board earlier that day. Apparently it was his first year too. Not only at Karasuno but at any music academy. Even though he didn't have much professional experience, he was a Karasuno alumni; one that was in the hall of fame. He was the soloist at Nationals back in his day. He had a whole piece dedicated to him and his playing, while everyone else accompanied him.

Hinata could imagine himself there. Standing right at the front, his baritone in his hands. And he’d play the loudest, proudest solo, while the orchestra played behind him. The stage lights would beam down on his face. A suit would hang over his shoulders. As he played the first note, it would be like the world was looking at him, watching him glimmer—

 _“Hey,”_ Hinata snapped back into reality as a saxophonist elbowed him.

He handed over a brand new piece. _“Overture of Candide”._ Okay, it was in E flat major. The baritone part wasn’t too hard with lots of long tones and not too many complex phrases and runs. Hinata loved long tones. He loved the way his instrument vibrated with all the low notes. He especially loved that moment when he blasted these notes with everything he had.

“Overture of Candide,” Ukai Sensei read out loud. “It’s a complex piece. It has a lot of layers. Every instrument seemingly has their own part. Some doing runs, others doing countermelodies, and none of them in perfect sync with each other. It’s vital to listen to the sections around you. You guys got that?”

“Yes sir,”

“Good.”

Ukai Sensei raised his hands, signalling for the band to lift their instruments. Hinata breathed in a whole gulp of air.

The piece began with a trumpet soli. A grand, powerful opening to a piece. Followed by a descending scale by every section. _Okay, that was a little rough. It didn’t piece together the way they hoped._ It was supposed to sound like bell chimes. Supposed to.

Then came Hinata’s entry. He took another inhale, enough to fill his cheeks, and blasted. His instrument rumbled, and the note resonated throughout the room. Everyone immediately looked over, and he felt the reed slowly plop out of his mouth.

“Baritone player,” Ukai Sensei pointed over to him with his baton. “What’s your name?”

He tightened his lips and cleared his throat. He felt oddly nervous. “Hinata Shouyou.”

Every single section had their eyes clawing up Hinata; staring at him in complete disbelief. But he really only noticed Kageyama, who was sitting adjacent to him to the left. And he looked the most stunned.

“Hinata,” he began. “You were....way too loud,” the conductor scoffed a little, loosening his tight shoulders. “Have you played in an orchestra before?”

“Uhh…” the young boy looked around, and noticed that all eyes were still on him. “Yeah. Not much but I-I’ve played in...some.”

“Because you’re incredibly loud. You’re playing louder than all of them,” he said as he pointed towards all the violins. Tsukishima was sitting amongst the second violins, smirking.

Hinata laughed, scratching the back of his head. “Sorry. I’ll work on it sir.”

The rest of the orchestra erupted in laughter too. It eased the tension just enough, with even the conductor giving into a small chuckle.

“You have a nice tone though,” he quipped as he tapped his baton. “Again from the beginning.”

✦✦✦

Hinata’s face burned as he packed away his instrument. He was overwhelmed, to say that least. From all the new experiences to how he embarrassed himself in the very first lesson. All he wanted to do was run to the nearest practice room and practice all night.

Then someone abruptly slapped him on the back. Really hard.

“Dude! You were awesome!” when he turned around, he found two brass players, smiling from ear to ear. One with a trumpet. The other with a trombone. “I’m Tanaka, and this is Nishionoya by the way. I’m guessing you’re a first year.”

“Yeah I am. I’m Hinata Shouyou,” he introduced himself. The trombonist was quite a bit taller than him, with buzz-cut hair and a strangely intense expression.

“When you were like _“boom”_ and like _“brrrr”_ I was like _“woah”_!” the shorter boy said. He was surprisingly even shorter than Hinata, though he had just as much flare. His spiked up hair, sharp eyes and overhyped actions mirrored his rambunctious trumpet playing.

Hinata brightened, jumping to his feet. “Really?! I loved your trumpet part! Especially the _“brum bum bum”_ part!”

“We needed more players like you. Ones with heart,” Tanaka said, lightly punching his arm. “We should jam out together.”

Hinata gasped and beamed. “Yeah! I’m free next week!”

“Yes! We’ll play the coolest piece. We’ll do sick solos and blast high notes!” he smacked him on the back. “I’m stoked.”

Hinata noticed Kageyama in the corner of his eye packing away his double bass. Swinging it over his shoulder, he barely looked at Hinata before leaving the hall. There was a little part of him that wanted to at least walk to their room together.

But Hinata gulped that feeling away in a quick swoop before he faced the brass players and gave the brightest smile. "I'm really excited."


	3. Peer Gynt Suite No. 1 Op. 46: Morning Mood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hinata and Kageyama go to their first class. Honestly, they're a complete mess and they carry their mess wherever they go.

The moment the sun beamed through the cracks of the curtain, Hinata jumped out of bed like a jack-in-a-box. He brushed out his messy orange hair as he changed into his school uniform in a blink in an eye.

“Get up! We have class!” he shouted, his voice so loud that it shook the entire room.

Kageyama gave a little yelp as he brought the sheets closer to his chin. “Can you shut up?!”

Their little rivalry had brewed over the weekend, and it was now at its peak. It started with the orchestra rehearsal on Saturday when Kageyama left without Hinata.

Then they had another fight when Hinata took the last katsu-don set for dinner at the cafeteria, which Kageyama really really wanted. The latter gave a huge fit, and Hinata (being the stubborn boy that he was) didn’t budge either. And they had a public, petty ruckus that resulted in Sugawara giving up his food to Kageyama (the first year profusely apologised and politely refused but Sugawara was adamant).

Afterwards they fought again once they got back to their room. _‘Hinata was too messy’_ according to Kageyama, and they bickered about it for hours until Hinata begrudgingly packed up clothes and chucked them into his closet. This made Kageyama draw a line in the middle of the room, saying that Hinata couldn’t cross. _No, no no way that he will ever ever ever be able to cross it._

And now, this. First day of class and they hadn’t gotten along once.

“Race me to the classroom! I dare you to race me!”

Kageyama’s eyes instantly bursted open. Kicking his sheets off of him, he messily rushed to get ready. He grabbed his crinkled uniform and slipped out of his pajamas.

“Fine I will!” his shirt’s buttons didn’t line up and his pants were still unzipped. But he did it in a matter of seconds.

“Good!” Hinata was barely any better—with his shirt mostly unbuttoned and his books falling out of his bag.

They crashed into each other as they tried to fit through the narrow door frame before running down the hallway. Their footsteps were more like elephant clomping mixed with their chaotic yelling.

“Hey!” another first year yelled at them. “Class starts in an hour!”

✦✦✦

Hinata’s new homeroom was 1-3. He was never a fan of school—well more the opposite—he was lucky to pass. But the thought of making new friends in his class was exciting for him. Maybe he’d find better people than that idiot Kageyama.

But fate had it that they had to sit next to each other.

Yes, really. Though Kageyama and Hinata were (by far) the earliest students to show up, they got caught in another argument. Surprise. A back and forth of “You’re an idiot!” and “You’re also an idiot!” led to complete anarchy outside of their classroom. And while they were caught up in the mess, they missed the opportunity to choose their seats. Kageyama quickly realised that roommates were taking every set of desks, leaving two lonely desks at the middle of the classroom for Hinata and him.

The bassist began unpacking his equipment as he groaned, realising that Hinata had brought a single pencil and the wrong book. “Hinata boke! We’re doing English first period.”

The shorter boy had a sudden realisation of shock before shaking his head. “Then we’ll share!”

“No way,”

“Come on! Share with me!”

“Get away,” Kageyama began pushing him away.

Hinata matched his hands and pushed him back too. “Come on!”

_“Good morning class.”_

The whole class abruptly stood up and bowed. It had become completely quiet. A friendly looking teacher with a small stature walked into the room. A set of round glasses, a soft smile and polite fashion—basically a stereotypically nice teacher. Which is what Hinata needed (being the dumbass he was).

_“Good morning sensei.”_

Kageyama and Hinata zipped their lips, but never stopped glaring at each other. Hinata gritted his teeth, having the urge to jump him and tear out each and every hair. But he didn’t want to be kicked out of the classroom. Not again.

_“Nice to meet you all. I’m Takeda Sensei. I’ll be your homeroom teacher this year.”_

Hinata couldn’t stop thinking about the orchestra. How he embarrassed himself. But really, how much he wanted to redeem himself. The feeling of humiliation was completely undermined by his will to become better. And eventually become the best musician.

_“We’ll start with the related text. A Kawabata Yasunari book. A classic—”_

Hinata loved every inch of his saxophone. He loved the feeling of the metal against his fingers. The way it felt to push down on all the keys. That comforting feeling when his lips curled around the reed. But what he loved more, was the sound. When he created music from thin air. How he was moved by it. It always felt like he was home. He didn’t want to leave the stage—for the lights to stop beaming on his face; for the polished floors to leave his feet. He didn’t want the music to stop—for everything to go silent.

_“A child walked by, rolling a metal hoop that made a sound of autumn.”_

Hinata blinked. Oh no. He wasn’t paying attention.

“Psst,” he elbowed Kageyama, who was trying his best to keep up with the reading. “Psst.”

“Quit it,” he whispered over, his eyes intensely going over every word.

“Can I look over?”

“No. Stop it,”

Hinata pouted, pulling Kageyama’s arm down. The brunette collapsed to the side. “Thanks.”

“Quit it you idiot!”

“Just let me read it!”

A clearing of the throat made the two lunge apart.

“Excuse me,” the teacher called out. His nice persona had melted, as he barely looked at them through his glasses. “Kageyama-san. Hinata-san. What are you two doing?”

The two simultaneously gulped. They were finally quiet. A small shiver went down their spines.

“I’m going to ask you two to step outside for a moment.”

Kageyama and Hinata robotically straightened their legs and marched outside, their faces burning with shame. It felt like the world was glaring at them as they left the classroom.

“I can’t believe you did that,” Kageyama spat, looking away to hide his red face.

“Me? You were the one that shouted first,” Hinata grumbled childishly.

“Because you were being a dumbass!”

“I was trying to do the right thing!”

“You didn’t even bring the right book!” Kageyama snorted. “Typical. You can barely keep up in class anyway.”

“Neither can you. I saw you struggling to read just then,”

The bassist, completely flustered, stood so close to Hinata that he was literally staring down at him like a bully. “What do you know? You barely made it into this school!”

“I got in fair and square,” Hinata shouted. “You’re just intimidated by me because I’m just as good as you, if not better.”

The brunette had half the mind to chuckle, slamming his fist into the wall. “You wish you were better than me. Blasting every note doesn’t make you a good player. You have no technique.”

“Neither does only playing runs! And I have one heck of a tone. Ukai Sensei said it himself.”

They had a lot of fights during the last three days of knowing each other. But for some reason, this one felt different. Maybe because it was the boiling point. So Kageyama’s eyes lit up with complete passion and anger as he announced:

“Fine! There’s only one way to settle it. A music battle.”

Hinata squinted. “FINE.”

“Do you know Carnival of Venice?”

“Heck yeah I know it!”

“Then it’s settled. You. Me. Carnival of Venice.”


	4. White Rose March

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suga helps Hinata practice. Daichi gets jealous.

A loud, bombastic saxophone solo bursted through the narrow door frame as Sugawara entered the practice room. He watched Hinata furiously blow his instrument, his face completely red and his back hunch over his stand. 

“Oh Hinata,” Suga smiled, walking over.

The first year halted, letting the saxophone swing at his waist by his harness. “Sugawara-senpai,” he bowed. “Good afternoon.”

“What are you practicing?” he looked over his shoulder. “Oh “Carnival of Venice”. That’s a fun piece.”

“You know it?”

“It’s a popular clarinet solo. Though this version-” he took it into his hands. “-is much harder. It’s a lot longer, meaning you need stamina. It changes styles multiple styles. And it’s filled with complex phrases.”

Hinata beamed, excitement jolting through his fingers. “I love it.”

“What’s it for?” 

“Kageyama and I are doing a music battle.”

The 3rd year blinked then laughed, returning the sheet music to his stand.

“Music battles only happen in movies Hinata. You know that right?”

“Oh…” he blankly stared. Almost like a puppy. “...it sounded really cool though.”

Sugawara politely chuckled, “Well good luck,” he grabbed a chair, flipped it over and sat down, resting his elbow against the back. He gestured for him to continue, and Hinata froze. “Let me hear you play.”

Hinata’s face filled with determination as he held the reed between his lips. Then he blew. His baritone sax erupted with a brassy tone as it slipped up and down through the phrases. It’s a lively, fun piece. It sounded like it’s light on its feet. At least at first.

Sugawara held up his hand and Hinata stopped. He didn’t even get 16 bars in.

“Okay, so I noticed something,” the band captain said as he walked towards him. “You need a little more support in your stomach. Some of your phrases sound a little thin.”

He closely stood behind him, practically breathing down his neck. Hinata shivered, his fingers hovering above his keys. 

“Do it again.”

So he played again. 

_Slap._

Hinata coughed, spitting up his mouthpiece. Sugawara had smacked his stomach. Really hard. The usually polite and kind Sugawara had become tougher and stricter than Hinata ever expected. _He really was a band captain for a reason._

“Do it again.”

Hinata started from bar one again. Quavers to crotchets. Crotchets to quavers. The piece was easy at first, but as the variations continued, it became more and more complex, though it would also abruptly stop and become calm and slurred during the middle. 

_Slap._

“Again.”

Hinata took another deep breath. Simple phrases. Only quavers and crotchets. He tried his best to support all his air inside, clenching his stomach, and only letting it slowly seep through as the bars continued.

“Good.”

This time, Hinata had made it to the beginning of the first variation. He smiled. 

“It felt so much better that time!” Hinata smiled in complete glee. Sweat ran down his forehead; his stomach ached; and his fingers burned red. But there was a rush to it. Like adrenaline was pumping through his head. 

Sugawara nodded, grinning. “Also another thing. You should improve your embouchure,” he gently swatted his cheek. “You can tighten your cheeks a little more.”

He squeezed Hinata’s cheeks with his pointer finger and his thumb, pinching them together. Hinata’s face completely burned with embarrassment. 

He squirmed and yelped, his mouth barely holding the mouthpiece in.“S-Sugawara…?”

Suddenly, the door swung open. Daichi strolled in, his bag casually tossed over his shoulder.

“Suga! We should—”

He then caught them. Sugawara, pressed up against Hinata whilst cupping his face. Hinata dropped his saxophone. 

As Daichi’s hands turned to fists, and his brows shifted into arches, Sugawara shuffled away, grabbing his stuff and calmly nudging Daichi on his way out of the classroom.

“Let’s go get a bite to eat,” the clarinetist airily said, already halfway out of the room. “Bye Hinata!”

“Thank you for the help!” he called.

Daichi nervously looked back and forth. Suga to Hinata. Suga. Hinata. Suga. Hinata. Suga—

“Well, are you coming?” Sugawara asked. Daichi blinked. “Daichi? Your face looks a little discoloured.”

“Y-Yeah let’s get something to eat.”

He waddled after him. 

Hinata violently shook his head, attempting to clear his mind, before he played the piece again. He noticed that he sounded a little clearer and firmer now. He wasn't as messy and unsupported as before. It was exactly what he needed for when he went up against Kageyama. 

_Kageyama._ He couldn't stop thinking about him. Whether it was good or not, he had no idea, but it left a burning sensation in his chest.


	5. Moonlight Sonata

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kageyama gets a pep talk from Daichi.

Kageyama couldn’t concentrate. Maybe because he spent hours upon hours in the practice room. Maybe because he felt claustrophobic in there. Maybe because he couldn’t stop thinking about Hinata. 

He walked to the nearest vending machine, getting a small carton of milk, and resting his back against the exposed brick. Kageyama thought about the battle. He had no idea why he proclaimed it—it wasn’t even a real thing. _It did sound pretty cool though._ In some ways, he regretted it. He loved music to his core, but it seemed to take a toll on his body at times. His fingers would ache (and in worst cases bleed) the more he played. His head would hurt the more he stared at his sheet music.

But there was also an unexplainable pain in his chest. He mostly felt it during orchestra practises, but felt worse when he practised band music on his own. This lingering feeling of...dreariness? Emptiness? Loneliness?

He sighed.

The outside world felt still. It was cloaked in complete darkness and it was deathly quiet. But the school’s remote location made it easier to see all the stars. They looked like bright specs smiling down at him. It felt comforting. And soothed the pain a little.

“Hey? Kageyama?” 

He whipped his head around to find Daichi by the vending machine, getting himself a black coffee. 

“Sawamura-senpai,” he bowed.

The third year gestured for him to get up. “Daichi’s just fine. Why are you out here? It’s pretty late.”

“I was practicing,”

“Don’t burn yourself out. It’s only week one after all,” 

When he noticed that Kageyama avoided his gaze, he non-verbally offered to sit by a bench for a small chat. Kageyama reluctantly nodded, seemingly uncomfortable with this "father and son" talk that he was roped into. 

Daichi cracked open his can of coffee and drew a long gulp. “You look tense. Are you stressed out?”

“I’m not really,” he weakly argued. Kageyama was awkwardly propped up on the bench. He felt the urge to straighten his back abnormally and keep his hands in his lap like an obedient child. “I’m just practicing to become a better musician.”

“I heard about your music battle with Hinata,” he said. Kageyama widened his eyes. “I find it stupid. So does Suga. But don’t let me stop you,” he took another gulp. “Why did you ask Hinata, if I may ask?”

“I don’t know,” he groaned, rubbing his eyes. “It just slipped out.”

“You regret it?” the first year nodded. “Are you scared?”

“No!” Kageyama instantly leaped in. “But I…” he avoided his gaze. “I want to be better than Hinata.”

“You shouldn't,” Daichi said calmly. 

Kageyama gritted his teeth. He didn't want to whine like a kid, but he felt the urge to do so. It was like he couldn't contain his anger. “But I’ve trained for years. I’ve worked with the top tutors. I’ve only been in the most prestigious ensembles. I’ve trained for hours and hours every day just to be here and Hinata just waltzes in. He doesn't have a history of playing, let alone in an ensemble. Hell, he looks like he can barely pick up his own instrument!”

Kageyama puffed after his rant, his shoulders feeling a bit lighter as he finished. Daichi firmly nodded, lowering his empty can. “I get you. I know it’s infuriating, especially when you’ve tried so hard. But his success doesn’t take away your own,” he reassuringly patted his back, in a parental way. “And Hinata also tries incredibly hard. I think he wants to impress you.”

Kageyama sat up, his cheeks flushing red. “Really?”

“Yeah. He also wants to prove you wrong obviously. But I think he’ll burst if you ever complimented him,” Daichi reassured. 

Kageyama sat there for a moment, the straw of his milk not fully held up in his mouth. He gulped. His throat was dry.

“Well, it’s getting a little cold so I’ll leave you with one final note,” Daichi pushed off of his knees to get up. “I won’t stop you from doing this music battle, but I don’t agree with going against your own bandmates. We’re all working together. That’s why we’re an orchestra, not soloists.”

The first year pressed his lips together and gave a firm nod. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow Kageyama,”

“Goodnight Sa-” he cut himself off. “D-Daichi.”

“Good luck in your music battle though.”

He teased, waving. It left Kageyama curled up on the outside bench, sipping on his milk like a child. He thought about Hinata. The battle. And that tightening of his chest. In that moment, he felt the comforting feeling of his double bass strings under his fingers. All he wanted to do was strum his fingers up and down.

He slurped the last of his milk and headed back to the practice room.


	6. Carnival of Venice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the day of the music battle. It goes a little...differently to how they expected.

It was the day of the music battle. 

By the time Hinata woke up, Kageyama wasn’t there. He had disappeared, as if he never came home the night before. In a way, it felt lonely. Hinata had become so used to fighting with him the moment they woke up. So silence felt...unsettling. 

He toppled out of bed, grabbing a set of casual clothes as he half heartedly put it on. It was a Saturday. And he wished he could’ve spent that time exploring the campus, or hiking through the woods. But instead, he was about to compete against the “Prince of Music” who basically wanted him dead. 

Hinata felt nauseous. His face was pale and he could barely keep down water. So he skipped breakfast, not going into the cafeteria and instead, redirecting himself straight to the music room where they planned to do the battle. With his sheet music in one hand and his saxophone in the other, he raced to the music room 1, the biggest rehearsal room in the school. 

Hinata just hoped that no one was there. He wished that it was just him and Kageyama and so no one had to witness him potentially lose. But he had to cut himself some slack—he practised for hours upon hours in the music room and read over the sheet music with all the corrections as he slept. He even recorded himself (which Tanaka actually advised him to do) and listened to his playing through earphones. He put his all into this battle.

He turned the knob of the practice room and thrusted himself inside to find virtually the whole orchestra there. From first years to third years.

Hinata stopped. Turned around. Went back outside. 

The end.

Or at least, Hinata hoped. Sugawara ran after him, taking him by the shoulders and forcefully turning him around. He literally dragged him by his legs as Hinata kicked and screamed down the hallway. 

“Come on Hinata!” he said between pants, tiresomely yanking him.

“No! Please!” he cried, tears running down his face. “I’m gonna hurl!”

“You’ll be fine!”

Hinata was propped up on a chair like a doll. Sugawara had pieced together his baritone for him and placed it on his lap. He looked like everything was drained out of him; all the colour, all the air and all his life. 

Kageyama stood in front of him, a couple of feet away. Him on his high chair, holding up his double bass, looked like an artwork. He could be in an art museum, perfectly sculpted and picturesque. He was practically a professional musician already. 

Hinata gulped, and tuned to the piano which Daichi played for him. No matter how sick he felt, the moment he blew through the reed, it was like everything was coming together. He was in the moment, living and breathing through his instrument. 

“You ready?” Kageyama asked coldly. Hinata couldn't figure out whether he was nervous or just being his asshole-self. Either way, it sent a shiver down his spine. 

The saxophonist didn’t reply verbally. Only swallowed and gave a firm nod. 

Carnival of Venice started at a moderato. It was just like how Hinata practised — very simple and airy in the beginning. It sounded easy. But as they progressed into the first variation, it became a bit more complex. 

Notes were added into the original phrase. And it continued over and over until it became runs. It was still light on its feet, but it was progressively stirring. Like the beginning of a storm.

But then it abruptly stopped at its climax. It becomes slow. Cantabile. Gloomy and grey. Hinata loved the long tones in this section. Dynamics shifted up and down. It was dramatic. 

_Wait. Kageyama didn't play the right notes. Or in this bar. Again._ Both boys stared at each other, obviously believing that they were right. They continued to play through the second variation, though seemingly stunned by the differences in their playing. 

The audience noticed too. They were clearly confused. Anticipation and intrigue drew them closer to the battle. 

Then Hinata got it — _they were playing different arrangements._

It was clearly different. The notes themselves were different; at least 2 notes apart. Phrases were too; they brought emphasis on completely different parts and slurred opposing sections. 

Kageyama’s double bass sounded smooth and low. It was eerie and haunting.

In contrast, Hinata was a tad higher and clearer. His instrument was singing, like it was floating above the storm. 

It was a matter of taste at this point. Kageyama highlighted the complexity of the music and his playing — he played slow and mellow to fast and precise. But Hinata was consistent, making a cohesive narrative throughout the whole piece. 

Then they hit the allegro section. That’s when the piece progressively becomes more chaotic and complex. It’s also the longest section of the piece. Runs up and down the relative scale with barely any breaks. 

Both musicians felt adrenaline flowing through their body. Tension built up and flowed straight into their music. Like electricity at high voltage. 

Kageyama had an advantage here. He was not only trained to do precise runs, but he also never ran out of breath. Tiny Hinata had to support every run with barely any breaths in between. And he knew this too. He had dreaded it for the week leading up to the battle. 

But now he was here, with Kageyama in front of him, playing with just as much passion as he was, so he stopped. Hinata skipped the runs, creating his own smoother countermelody. Kageyama shivered, but his playing didn’t budge as he continued with the melody himself.

The room erupted in surprise. The piece was now a duet. A unique duet with contrasting playing. Hinata’s eyes lit up in enthusiasm. He was burning on the inside. Kageyama was smiling back at him with just as much glow.

His staccato plucks alongside Hinata’s tenuto phrases created an entirely new variation of Carnival of Venice. One that the world hadn’t heard before.

_E. G. A._

And a final blow.

_C._

A full, deep pause on the tonic. 

Silence.

Then the whole room exploded in applause. A standing ovation throughout the whole practice room. But within the chaos, Kageyama could only focus on Hinata. It was as if everything else was in slow motion. And he smiled.

"Kageyama. Hinata," Daichi said over the applause. "That was amazing. That _has_ to be a tie."

Another round of applause. Hinata walked over to Kageyama with a toothy grin. His eyes glistened with pure passion.

"That was great!" he beamed, his hands clenched into fists. 

Kageyama caved into an assertive and genuinely positive smile. The feeling of playing the piece still lingered on his fingers. The way Hinata contrasted to his playing felt like a euphoric rush. Almost like they were perfect together.

Hinata had run off to the second years, shouting and hi-fiving Tanaka and Nishinoya as they gushed about their battle. But all Kageyama could do was longingly stare at him, intrigued by their potential. _Even if Hinata was unaware of it, Kageyama knew that they could become a formidable duo in the future. Maybe good enough to get them to Nationals._


	7. From the Shores of the Mighty Pacific

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a transition chapter. A bit of Kagehina, Daisuga, Tsukiyama and Asanoya.

Hinata and Kageyama wheeled their respective instruments back to their room. Hinata was bursting at the seams with excitement, his free hand gesturing messily.

“When that third section came, I was like _woah_. You were like “bum bum bum bum” and I was like “too too too” and it sounded so cool!” his eyes glistened. “You were really good!”

Kageyama’s voice hitched, before he muttered a small. “...idiot.”

“WHY!?” Hinata panicked. “I was trying to be nice!” he pouted, running in front of him to block him. He was yapping at his waist, barking and growling like a little dog. The more Kageyama stared down at him, the more Hinata looked like a corgi. And he couldn't unsee it.

“You’re an idiot! Bakageyama!”

He clenched his jaw. “Dumbass!”

“Shut up you two!!” Daichi yelled, grabbing the two first years by the back of the collar and yanking them into the air.

The presence of both band captains made both first years shiver in fear.

“Stop bickering!" Daichi said firmly.

Sugawara chuckled nervously, trying to help the first years down. "Daichi's right. We all need to work together."

“Kageyama started it!” Hinata cried, kicking his legs to try and reach the ground.

“It doesn’t matter who started it,” he propped them down. “We’re in the same orchestra. We’re on the same side. Right Kageyama?”

Daichi specifically stared at the bassist who caved into a pitiful nod.

“Right Hinata?”

The other boy pressed his lips together and tucked his chin towards his chest. Hinata nodded to himself before facing the other first year.

“Kageyama,” he decided to swallow his pride. “Can you help me practice?”

Kageyama was shocked. It took him a moment to process the question, and then even more time to come up with an answer.

"I..." he began, but couldn't finish it. So he just nodded.

Hinata brightened, giving a toothy grin.

“There you go,” Daichi slapped both of their backs and walked away.

Kageyama wouldn’t admit it, but he was more flattered than he’d ever admit to Hinata. And that tension in his chest he always felt seemed to ease a little when he agreed.

As Daichi and Sugawara walked away, the celloist sighed into his hands. He resembled a tired dad.

“They’re talented but they’re such a handful,” Daichi groaned.

“They bring out the best in each other though,” Sugawara said.

The other band captain looked at him with slight confusion, “They can’t go a single second without fighting.”

“I meant in terms of playing,” he said lightly. “You heard them in there. They’re amazing together. They cover up each other’s flaws and bring out their talents. They’re perfectly complementary.”

Daichi pondered for a moment. “You’re right Suga.”

“I always am,” he quipped. He unlocked their room, entering the comforts of their shared bedroom. “I think that they have what it takes to bring us to Nationals this year.”

His confident grin made Daichi smile as well. He slumped onto his bed, longingly gazing at Suga as he brewed some tea in their kitchenette.

“If we keep them alive for that long, that is,”

Suga snickered. “But Kageyama likes Hinata. I can feel it.”

“Aha, he sure does hide it,”

“It’s the way he looks at him from a distance,” he sat next to him, handing him over a scorching cup of tea. Daichi gestured a “thank you” and took a minimal sip. “But I don’t think Kageyama realises it either.”

"They're stubborn. Both of them," he shuffled a little closer to him. "But we were like that when we were first years."

"Liar. I always liked you,"

Daichi eased into a flattered snicker. "I always liked you too."

Suga shoved him gently, lowering his mug onto the bedside table. "Okay, I've got to go study. I'll photocopy that new piece on my way back."

"No, it's fine. I'll go photocopy-"

"It's fine Daichi. I'll be out anyway,"

He smiled. "You always work too hard."

Sugawara dismissed it, giving a bright expression before leaving the room. It left Daichi staring up at the ceiling, happily sighing to himself as he finished his mug of tea.

✦✦✦

Yamaguchi and Tsukishima were on their way back to the room after the music battle. The shorter boy was clearly excited, his hair literally spiked up.

“That battle was amazing! We knew that Kageyama can play but Hinata’s amazing too! For someone so small, he can really blow! Don’t you think so Tsukki?” he enthused.

Tsukishima pushed up his glasses and rolled his eyes. It was enough for Yamaguchi to hold back.

“I-I mean you’re obviously better than both of them though Tsukki!” he raved.

“Shut up,”

“Sorry Tsukki.”

They continued on their path to the first year’s dormitory, cases in hand. Yamaguchi noticed that Tsukishima avoided his gaze, and that his breath seemed a little heavier than usual. That meant that he was upset and tried to cover it with frustration.

Yamaguchi prided himself on knowing Tsukki. He’s hard to read, but he’d known him for years (ever since they were 5) and nothing had seemingly changed. He was the same patronising, cold and stand-offish Tsukki that he had admired for so long.

_“That battle was amazing! We’ve gotta do something like that! Asahi-san! We’ve gotta do—!”_

_“Okay, okay, calm down Nishinoya.”_

The first years overheard the flutist and the trumpeter rave about the infamous music battle. Asahi chuckled, trying to gesture for the brass player to stop violently jumping up and down. He was like a yappy dog, unable to stop barking and running around.

“We need to do a cool music battle too! Or like, a duet. Asahi-san please!”

Asahi was about to reply, but noticed Yamaguchi and Tsukishima. “Hey,” it redirected Nishinoya’s excitement towards something new. “Did you guys see the Kageyama and Hinata music battle?”

Tsukishima ignored him, which was Yamaguchi’s cue to talk. “Y-Yeah,” he replied, knowing that his best friend hated this topic. “It was...good.”

“It was okay,” the other first year added. He had a tendency to act like he didn’t care. Like he was above it and couldn't be bothered to think about anything beneath him. Yamaguchi never minded though, and purposefully ignored it to make Tsukishima feel better.

“It was great! I want to do something like that!” Nishinoya enthused. His eyes scanned him from his feet up to his head which was hovering above him. Tsukishima was basically twice his height. “You’re huge! I bet you play big.”

“Uh…” Tsukishima awkwardly glanced away. “Not really.”

“I heard you’re a great violinist though,” Nishinoya continued to encourage, completely overlooking the first year’s reluctance. “You’ll be first seat in no time,” before the other boy could reply, he continued in a joyful tone. “You two should come jam with us! Tanaka and I are setting up a jazz band. Suga and Daichi and coming. Asahi-” he nudged him and the taller boy blushed a little. “-Hinata-”

“I’ll have to decline,” the violinist said. “Violins aren’t typically jazz, and I’d rather not be involved in...uh...how do I put this? A waste of time.”

Asahi and Yamaguchi met eyes, and nonverbally apologised to each other. An “I’m sorry my boyfriend is like this” sort of look.

“Oh that’s okay,” Nishinoya didn’t pick up on his hostility. “I know jazz violins aren’t that common.”

The conversation was likely to flip over any time soon, so Yamaguchi took it into his own hands to end it. “It was nice meeting you guys properly,” he said, stabilising the chat.

Asahi helped alongside Yamaguchi. He placed his hands on Nishinoya’s shoulders, slowly pushing him towards another direction. “Yeah, we’re heading over to the cafeteria now to get a bite to eat. Let’s go. It was nice to meet you guys too.”

Yamaguchi sighed. Tsukishima didn’t like people. Especially happy people. Or short people apparently. But he was willing to overlook that all because of the sheer coolness he exuded. He was never scared; he was never nervous; and he was powerful. Virtually everything Yamaguchi wasn’t. And it made him love him all the more.

He then noticed that Tsukishima was miles ahead of him.

Yamaguchi ran after him. “Wait for me!”

“Oh? You were daydreaming again so I thought I’d just leave you alone,” Tsukishima said nonchalantly.

He grinned. “It's okay Tsukki.”


	8. Bottesini Gran duo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The orchestra isn't gelling, so Ukai has a plan to bring the sections together a little bit.

5PM. The orchestra had sat there, playing for over an hour now but they still sounded like a complete mess. Even with all the tuning, the warm-up, and the break down, it just wasn't...clicking. It didn’t sound right. Like each section refused to gel with one another. Like every section was choosing to do their own thing. Not listening to one another.

Ukai Sensei tapped his baton on the stand, shutting up the orchestra. “This isn’t working,” he simply said, rubbing his temples and wiping his face with his hand. “Candide is complex. It has layers upon layers and each section is doing something different. But that is exactly why you need to listen to one another. It seems like every instrument is doing its own thing instead of listening down to the basses.”

 _He was right_ —Kageyama thought. It seemed like the sopranos were doing their own thing. The violins in particular were doing their own thing. Hell, barely him and Hinata were playing together and they were in the same bass section.

“First years,” Ukai Sensei scanned the room. “Stand up.”

Kageyama held his instrument by the neck as he rose to his feet. First years made up about two-fifths of the orchestra. They were mostly violinists, a couple of cellsists and some woodwinds. Only him and Hinata were first year bass players.

“I’m going to split you guys into duet partners so you can hopefully improve your chemistry,” he stated.

Kageyama instantly looked at Hinata, who was already looking at him. Their eyes lit up with mutual intensity. He watched Ukai Sensei pair together some musicians. A flute and a clarinet. A trumpet and a trombone. The numbers were narrowing and narrowing, heightening the likelihood that Hinata and Kageyama would end up together.

He already started thinking about what they could play. Maybe Hinata wouldn’t like it, but they could tackle a classical piece together. They already did Carnival of Venice, but they could’ve done something along the same lines. _Variations on a waltz by Diabelli in C major._ It would show their diversity, their chemistry and —

“Kageyama,” he snapped into reality. “You’ll go with Tsukishima.”

He paused. All the colours drained out of him.

He glanced at the violinist who’s face churned and distorted with disgust. Kageyama mirrored his face with just as much dread.

“And finally, Hinata will go with Yamaguchi.”

Yamaguchi and Hinata exchanged smiles. Ones that seemed actually genuine. A cello and a baritone was an incredibly odd pair, and so were they, but they were much more excited for the activity compared to their roommates.

Hinata couldn’t wait. Though Kageyama was his first choice, he couldn't wait to play with someone entirely new. He was hoping that Yamaguchi was a big player too. And full of joy. And wanting to also do a messy, chaotic piece. He crossed his fingers.

✦✦✦

Kageyama and Tsukishima sat in complete silence in their practice room. First years were dismissed ten minutes early so they could practice on their duets. They had a week to get everything together for Ukai Sensei's assessment.

Though Kageyama and Tsukiyama weren’t getting anything done. It was dead silent. Kageyama could hear the buzzing of the flies, to the footsteps outside. He couldn’t figure out what to say. And Tsukishima didn’t want to bother talking to him. And it meant that neither wanted to cooperate with one another.

“We’ll do Bottesini Gran duo,” Kageyama grumbled coldly. It was barely audible, as they sat on the opposite corners of the practice room. “I have the piece lying around somewhere so—”

“Who said I agreed?” Tsukishima argued, refusing to even pick up his violin. He was far more intrigued with his phone, where he mindlessly scrolled through the internet. “Egdar Meyer’s concert duo for violin and bass works a lot better with my style.”

“Every bass and violin duo does that piece. I don’t want to sound like an idiot,”

Tsukishima smirked. “Oh? And you already don’t?”

A double bass and a violin should, on paper, make great duet partners. They were complementary, they had similar tones and even as players they had some similarities. Emphasis on “on paper”.

“If you’re such a good player, you should be able to play any style, right?” Tsukishima jabbed, kicking his feet up onto the desk.

Kageyama’s hands turned to fists. “I _can_ play any style. You’re the only one who can’t.”

Tsukishima snorted, “You’re pretty hard to work with,” his eyes sharped and Kageyama leant in. The bassist was fuming, bubbling, and completely heated. The violinist, on the other hand, was cold, calculating and every word was icy. “ _Prince_.”

“Idiot!”

“I’m the idiot? Last time I checked, you couldn’t even pass the introductory maths quiz,”

And the more Tsukishima pushed, the more Kageyama blew up.

“Where did you hear that?”

“Hinata was talking about it,”

“Why would he? That idiot failed it too,” Kageyama quipped.

“Oh? So you did fail?”

He hesitated, then gritted his teeth. “You dumbass!”

“Do you have anything else in your vocabulary? No wonder you’re failing,”

Kageyama stomped his foot, angrily packing away his instrument. “I refuse to work on this stupid assignment with you!”

“Good.”

He slammed the door behind him, the “bam” echoing through the whole building. The floor beneath him was practically sizzling from his anger. He could’ve melted right through the wood. With his bass case on his back, he refused to look back. And refused to budge. At all.

✦✦✦

On the other hand, Hinata and Yamaguchi were a lot more smooth. They were in the practice room next to their roommates, but there was a lot less hostility.

Hinata couldn’t stop asking questions about Yamaguchi, wanting to know basically everything about him—with intermissions of how much he loved his baritone—and tried his best to warm up to him. Yamaguchi, though timid and introverted, did do his best to reply.

“What about Kapustin’s duet for alto saxophone and cello?” Yamaguchi suggested. “I know we have to transpose it but I saw the piece lying around in the music room so...”

Hinata brightened. “That sounds great! But how do you transpose?”

Yamaguchi paused. Then snickered a little. “I-I’ll transpose it then.”

“Are you sure? I can always—”

“No, no it’s okay. I’ll transpose it,” Yamaguchi insisted. “Can we practice tomorrow after class?”

“Yeah!”

“I’ll see you then.”

There was a little silence between them as they packed away their instruments. The baritone player noticed that Yamaguchi seemed a little quieter when he wasn't with Tsukishima. Like he was out of his comfort zone.

“You’re really nice,” Hinata blurted out of the blue.

Yamaguchi was taken aback a little, but his face flushed a little pink. “Thanks.”

“Like really nice. But your best friend is kind of mean,” his naive voice made Yamaguchi laugh, but his tone was a little firmer now that he mentioned Tsukishima.

“Tsukki can come across a little cold but he’s actually really nice! And above all, super cool,”

“I don’t know,” he folded his arms behind his head. “He doesn’t say much but when he does, they’re all insults.”

“Exactly! He’s so confident and witty. How cool is that?”

Hinata pouted and thought about it. “I mean...I guess?”

“Tsukki is always so quick to jump in and he never seems scared. He never holds back and people never pick on him,” Yamaguchi was smiling, but it was bittersweet. “...he’s amazing.”

“But how do you know he likes you?”

“Because he knows what I like to eat,” Hinata blinked. “And he knows my sleeping patterns. He knows my favourite type of tea. He stands up for me...sort of. And he knows my best subject in school.”

 _‘So he can be nice’_ — the sax player thought as he grinned. “Maybe Tsukki is kind of cool."

"He hates being called that by the way."

Hinata noticed the smile on Yamaguchi's lips, and it made him feel a little better. Though he wasn't the biggest fan of Tsukishima, Yamaguchi clearly liked him and Tsukishima must've also liked him (or else he probably would've killed Yamaguchi by now).

"Well I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” Hinata picked up his baritone case and threw it over his shoulder.

“Yeah I’ll have the music ready and—”

 _Bang._ And they paused. Then looked at each other, clearly concerned with the sudden noise.

“Was that…?”

“It came from next door.”

The two boys ran to the next practice room over. Yamaguchi peeked through the door’s window and found Tsukishima sitting there alone with his phone in his hand.

He rushed inside in a slight panic, “Tsukki? Where’s Kage—?”

“He left,” he sounded nonchalant. “He was angry.”

Hinata bit his lip and shouted a “I’ll see you guys later!” as he dashed after him, his arms about to break from how heavy his instrument was.

It left Tsukishima and Yamaguchi in the practice room alone, an odd silence between them.

“Are you okay?” Yamaguchi asked.

Tsukishima finally tucked his phone into his pocket, grabbing his violin case as he was ready to head back to their room. “Why wouldn’t I be? This is just some stupid extracurricular anyway.”

The cellist parted his lips to speak but cut himself off and decided to silently follow him.

“Do you want to go get some dinner now?” Yamaguchi didn't exactly know what to say. The other boy just shrugged, mumbling a little “sure”.

He couldn’t stop thinking about his conversation with Hinata. _He knew Tsukki, right? He came across cold, but at the root of it all, they were friends...right?_ Yamaguchi gazed up at him, who had his usual cold and distant Tsukki face.

“Hey Tsukki? Do you remember my favourite food?”

“What?” but Yamaguchi pleaded, and he rolled his eyes. “Rice,” Yamaguchi’s lips quivered. “I’m kidding. It’s floppy french fries.”

He immediately lit up, his whole face completely illuminating.

“Thanks for remembering Tsukki,”

The taller boy just groaned. “Why would I forget?”


	9. Salut d’amour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hinata gets to have dinner with his seniors. 
> 
> Meanwhile, Kageyama is basically crying in his room. 
> 
> The obligatory hurt/comfort chapter that every fic needs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This piece is also one of my all time favourites. I've played it as a solo before, and I've also danced to it at competitions. Honestly a bop.

Hinata shoved an overflowing amount of rice into his mouth. He couldn’t get over how good it was. That feeling of cracking his egg over hot white rice, and then scooping it into his mouth reminded him of his childhood. It was like he was home.

_“This tastes so good!”_

_“You know what also tastes good? Nationals!”_

_“Woo Nationals!”_

_“You two! Settle down!”_

_“Sorry senpai!”_

The food’s great, but it was also really hard to eat. It’s what you’d expect at an all boys high school — shouting, fights, and furniture toppling over. Hinata didn’t care though, he just wanted to chaotically scream alongside his seniors.

“Hinata,” Tanaka slumped next to him, his hands full with another bowl of rice and a plate of meat. “We’ve been tossing up pieces we could play for our jam. We need something bombastic, loud and fun.”

Nishinoya took the seat in front of them. “I was gonna say jazz.”

“Maybe like “Sing Sing Sing”? It’s fast, it’s brassy,” the trumpeter took a large bite of his meal and said a muffled, “It’s everything we need.”

Hinata’s eyes lit up. “I love that piece!”

Tanaka slammed his hand into the table. “It’s settled. I’ll print off the piece by rehearsal.”

By that time, both band captains and Asahi had come over to join their conversation. It was good timing, since they were also in the newly formed jazz band. Their bench was filled to the brim with seniors, and Hinata felt excited yet out of place.

“By the way, how’s your duet going Hinata?” Asahi asked.

Hinata cleaned his bowl of rice. “We’re going well! Yamaguchi is super cool!”

“How’s Kageyama doing? I heard he has a thing with Tsukishima,” Nishinoya asked in the midst of stuffing his face.

“They’re not getting along,” he simply said.

“Well that’s expected. They’re both a little stubborn,” Sugawara chuckled. He was eating a lot cleaner and smaller compared to the boys around him.

“Prince of Music after all,” Tanaka teased.

“Kageyama _is_ a good musician though,” Hinata surprisingly defended him.

The other boys held back, a little surprised. But Sugawara entered a second later. “That’s true Hinata. He’s an incredible musician.”

The musicians finished off the rest of their meals and put away their trays. Sugawara offered to pack up Hinata’s stuff for him and the first year gladly accepted as he took a bread roll up for Kageyama in a plastic container.

As the saxophonist ran up to the first year dormitory, it left the two band captains to clean up after their kids.

“Maybe Hinata likes him back,” Sugawara whispered over, returning the plates to the cafeteria.

Daichi laughed, “Maybe.”

✦✦✦

Hinata entered the confines of their shared room. He could hear the fan running. Other than that, it was incredibly silent. He found Kageyama curled up in his bed, his face glued on his textbook.

“Woah? Are you studying?!” Hinata yelped, kicking the door behind him.

Kageyama knitted his brows together. “Yeah! What about it?!” he slammed the book shut and threw his sheets over him. “I don’t want to be an idiot…an idiot like you!” despite Kageyama’s harsh words, Hinata walked over and sat on his bed. “Get off my legs dumbass.”

“Sorry,” he chuckled. “I got you something.”

He placed the take-away box onto his bedside table. Inside was a little bread roll that Hinata had buttered for him.

Kageyama peered out of his blankets, looking at the bread, then at him. “...I’m not hungry.”

“Well I didn’t know that!” he growled. “I came back to the room earlier and you weren’t here so I didn’t know what you were up to.”

“I was having a shower,” as Kageyama said it, Hinata noticed his wet locks.

Instead of their usual bickering, it actually fell silent. Kageyama didn’t have as much spark as he usually did—Hinata noticed—and he didn’t seem entirely there mentally.

“How was rehearsal with Tsukishima?”

Kageyama avoided his gaze. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Well I went well. Yamaguchi was good. He was a little shy but he was really nice and we agreed on a piece!”

“Good for you.”

Hinata felt a little fiery. It was a queer mixture of disappointment, frustration and genuine concern. His jaw clenched as he snapped, “Why are you in such a bad mood? Tsukishima, you, me, all of us are on the same side. Why does it matter if he’s mean?”

Kageyama leaped out of his bed, sitting upright. “How can you say that?!”

Hinata blinked. “Say what?”

“Say that everyone’s on the same side. And that everyone has each other’s backs!” he bit his lip. “...or whatever.”

“Because we do,” Hinata muttered. “We’re in the same orchestra!

“But who’s to say that they won't blame you when you stuff up?!” he yelled. Hinata hesitated. “Who’s to say that when you mess up your part, and the orchestra loses at a competition...y-you're not going to get blamed for the whole thing?”

Kageyama’s words were soft around the edges. He sighed, the helplessness weighing down his shoulders. He couldn’t stop thinking about his old junior high comp. It was the annual band championships. Kageyama wouldn’t ever forget the feeling of holding his bass in his trembling hands. He was shaking so much that it was virtually falling out of his hands. And the first phrase of his bass solo was just that. Shaky.

It threw his whole solo off. It felt like he was compensating for his nerves by blasting and racing. But the orchestra wasn’t keeping up either. Kageyama thought that they were doing it on purpose — they chose not to follow his lead to make him look weak — but he’d never know the real reason why they didn’t back him up. But as the piece wrapped up, and he landed on the final note much quicker than the rest of the orchestra, he immediately knew that he had messed up.

They missed out on the gold that year. They were front runners throughout that whole season, but they wrapped it up with a pathetic silver. The rest of their set had saved them from a bronze, but if all three pieces sounded like Kageyama's solo, they were bound to get a bronze.

“Because we’re on the same side!” Hinata shouted. “We’re playing together. We’re working together. And we’re going to perform together. Why wouldn’t we have each other’s backs?”

Kageyama couldn’t remember the exact words he said when he was yelling at his orchestra backstage. But he remembered their faces. Their dead, flat expressions. His conductor was yelling at him to shut up because the judges could probably hear him, but he was so infuriated that all the words came tumbling out. The one thing he never forgot were the words his band captain had said to him.

_”You're the reason why we lost”_

“You’ll never be the reason why we lost.”

Kageyama snapped into reality. His eyes laid on Hinata, who was passionately gazing at him, as if he was pleading for him to be okay.

“It’s never one person’s fault for an orchestra losing,” Hinata said. He was sitting closer to him than Kageyama was used to. But he didn’t budge either. “I don’t know what happened to you but I have your back no matter what. I won’t blame you for anything,” he held out his fist. “If we’re gonna lose, we’ll lose together.”

Kageyama melted into a smile. He tried his best to tug his cheeks down, but it was overpowering. He genuinely laughed for the first time since he made it to Karasuno. He knocked his knuckles against his, and gave a solid nod.

It was a non verbal “I have your back. No matter what”, and both boys knew it. Just with a simple look, they both knew.

Hinata stood to his feet. “Well I’m gonna go have a shower.”

It left Kageyama alone in their room. He collapsed back, pressing himself against the cool wall as he glanced down at the bread roll. He took it into his hands then took a bite. And for some reason, he began to cry. Tears were running down his cheeks, one by one, as he chewed his food. It was so plain, and yet, at that moment, it tasted so good. It tasted like...victory. Salty, savoury but oddly sweet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Am I writing dialogue okay? I'm Japanese so I watched Haikyuu in Japanese so I couldn't tell whether the characters talked like this in the dub/sub. 
> 
> Hopefully it's still in character!


	10. Kapustin’s duet for alto and cello

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yamaguchi and Hinata perform for the orchestra. 
> 
> Tsukishima and Kageyama are also supposed to but...something happens.

Hinata and Yamaguchi had met up before the rehearsal to go over everything. They were performing for the whole orchestra. First years. Already performing for all the seniors. It was the most terrifying thought. 

Hinata and Yamaguchi were shivering in the corner of the hall before their orchestra practice began. 

“W-We’re gonna do this piece,” he was trying to sound encouraging but he was clearly on the verge of spewing.

“Yeah…? We’ll do the piece...a-and we’ll...play…” Yamaguchi was just as close to vomiting. Or passing out. He didn’t know which would come first. 

"And it'll go..."

"It'll go...places."

That whole rehearsal was dedicated to all the first year duets. There was some backlash from the older students, saying that they should’ve focused on Candide, or potentially a new piece. But Ukai persisted, arguing that the orchestra needed to come together more, which included pushing and encouraging one another. And the musicians couldn’t exactly argue with that. 

Hinata and Yamaguchi were the second last pair to perform. And unfortunately for them, everyone before them sounded really good. 

Ukai Sensei called for them, gesturing towards the front of the orchestra. A set of seats and stands were set up. Every step they took made them more and more nauseated. It was an indescribable type of pain. 

Both boys took their seats, then looked at each other with mirroring dread and agony. 

“What are you playing today?” Ukai Sensei asked.

“Kaspu—”

“Kapustin’s duet for…”

“Alto, but not anymore because it’s baritone now—”

“—and cello. Duet. Kasputin’s duet.”

Hinata began talking, but Yamaguchi had accidentally cut him off. And they never fully matched. _This was a bad start._

“Great. Thanks guys. Whenever you’re ready.”

This duet piece was odd. It was just as mismatched as them. It started with an almost jazzy cello solo. It’s fun, lively but still down low. Eventually the saxophone soloist would come in, gently gliding along the top. 

The hardest part of the piece was matching each other. Like Candide, the sections didn’t exactly line up. The cello would do its own thing. The saxophone would do it’s own thing. But the thing that would link them together was the similar style in their melodies. It was flowy, fun and it never seemed to take itself too seriously. It let Yamaguchi and Hinata enjoy themselves and finally find comfort in each other and the music.

Hinata grinned over, his face burning. Yamaguchi was smiling back at him, his eyes barely looking over the music as he was more intrigued with the feeling than the intricacies of the piece. Tsukishima, while watching, noticed this too, but in some ways, he liked it that way. Yamaguchi was genuinely enjoying himself, and chose to play with his heart rather than with technicality. And overall, it suited Hinata’s playing too. 

The melodies fused during the final stretch. Their opposing countermelodies seemed to finally find each other, allowing them to knit together. Harmonise. Then seize. 

The room filled with applause. Hinata happily sighed into the crowd’s enthusiasm. It didn’t fail like they thought. Yamaguchi was looking back at him, a bright expression on his face. _Maybe they were a pretty good duo after all._

“Thank you Hinata and Yamaguchi,” Ukai Sensei congratulated, still clapping. “And last, but not least, Tsukishima and Kageyama.”

The two first years blankly walked to the front. They didn't exchange any words, not even a look, as they sat down.

Hinata was really excited to see them perform. A talented violinist and a talented double bassist. It was virtually a perfect pair. He had avoided bringing up the duet with Kageyama in the days following so he wouldn't upset him. Because of that, Hinata didn't know what to expect. Though he did have high expectations since it was Kageyama. 

But that’s when he noticed something. They didn't have folders on their stands. Hinata adjusted himself, and found that there wasn’t even sheet music on their stands. But for some reason, the two musicians chose to sit there in silence, as if they were waiting for the other to talk. 

“Well?” the conductor asked firmly. He wasn’t angry. Yet. He took slow steps behind them and glared over their shoulders. “There’s nothing on your stands. Why is that?”

Kageyama clenched his jaw, clearly frustrated. But his words came out quiet. “...we don’t have anything prepared.”

“What?”

“We didn’t...get anything done.”

Hinata looked at Yamaguchi, who was looking at him too. Both boys stared at each other, as if they were asking if the other knew about this situation. Clearly, neither knew. 

Ukai Sensei rubbed his temples, then his eyes. “How did you get nothing done?” he spat. “You were given a week! You two had an easy job. There are so many duet pieces for violin and double bass! You two have no excuse for this disappointment.”

Tsukishima grunted, tapping his foot.

The conductor glared at him. “Excuse me?”

“This is some stupid extracurricular anyway.”

He abruptly stood to his feet and calmly walked out of the hall, leaving his violin on his seat. No one went after him at first. The shock froze everyone in their place.

Until Nishinoya jumped up. “What the hell was that?!”

“Come on Nishinoya,” Asahi tried to pull him down from his seat. 

“That was so out of the blue!”

The room erupted with mutters. Some complained, some seemed genuinely worried, others couldn’t care less because it sounded like a stunt by a no-name first year. Yamaguchi was the most surprised. His best friend and roommate. _It wasn’t like him. He isn’t usually like this. Sure, he can be cold, he can be unbothered and aloof. But he didn't do things like this._

“I’ll get him!” Yamaguchi lowered his instrument onto his chair and dashed outside. 

The world outside was completely black. It was nearly the end of rehearsal after all. It made it all the more harder to find Tsukishima. Yamaguchi ran with all his might nonetheless. He raced around the buildings and swiftly turned the corners until he found Tsukishima nonchalantly walking to a vending machine. 

“Tsukki!!!” Yamaguchi puffed, collapsing over his knees. “W-What happened? I thought everything was going okay! Why did you randomly storm out and—”

“It doesn’t matter,” Tsukishima dismissed. He got himself a tall bottle of tea. 

There was silence between them as Yamaguchi let him talk. But he didn’t continue talking.

“Tsukki please. You need to tell me what’s wrong or else I don’t know what to say or do,”

The violinist pushed up his glasses, then undid the cap. “You don’t need to say or do anything. This is just some stupid extracurricular. I’ve said that since the beginning so—”

Then Yamaguchi did the unthinkable. He grabbed Tsukishima by the collar and banged him against the vending machine. The bottle stumbled out of his hands and spilt out on the concrete. The violinist could barely breathe. Yamaguchi was right beneath his chin, his jaw tight and his eyes burning with anger.

“What are you doing?!”

“What are _you_ doing?!”

His words echoed into the night. Disintegrating. 

“You’re acting like an idiot and I hate it! This isn’t you Tsukki. This isn’t the Tsukki I know,”

“Then I guess you don’t know me,”

Yamaguchi shoved him even harsher. Tsukishima felt it cracking against his back. “I know you better than anyone else in the world! Are you kidding?!” 

“Let go of me idiot!” he tried to kick him off, but Yamaguchi just grabbed him even harsher.

“Acting like you don’t care doesn’t make you cool! There’s nothing cooler than determination!”

“It’s because there’s no point,” Tsukishima whispered. Yamaguchi loosened his grip a little and he used the opportunity to snake out of his grip. The violinist finally inhaled, stumbling to his feet in an off-beat fashion. 

The two boys stood far apart, barely looking at each other. They never felt so distant from one another.

“We’re on the same team though,” Yamaguchi was quieter now. “And you’re already an amazing musician.”

“But I know he’s better.”

He coolly picked up the fallen tea and strolled away. Nothing more. He left Yamaguchi standing there, completely lost for words.


	11. Por una Cabeza

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit of Tsukiyama, and maybe Kageyama and Tsukishima get along? Sort of?

It was 10AM in the morning. A Saturday. It meant that Yamaguchi and Tsukishima finally had time to do whatever they wanted. Maybe study, maybe explore campus a bit more. Except the air between them was stale because of the night before.

Yamaguchi didn’t have the heart to properly speak up. He had gotten up and brewed some tea in their kitchenette, but Tsukishima didn’t get out of bed, as if he had purposefully let the drink get cold.

Yamaguchi stared at the dinosaur-printed mug. It was so cute, unlike Tsukishima's usual demeanour. It was the mug Yamaguchi had bought for him years ago while out at a junior high excursion to a museum. Yamaguchi was flattered that he had kept it for all these years.

He took a sip from his own mug; one with stars specked along the sides. It was one of those tacky ones that lit up in the dark. “Maybe you should go practice with Kageyama. You know, since you get another shot…?”

The other boy grunted, and turned over, his eyes peeking just above the sheets. His eyes were gentle and softer without his glasses. Maybe a little vulnerable looking. Yamaguchi blushed at the thought.

“I’d rather not,” Tsukishima opposed.

Yamaguchi pursed his lips. He was almost always a nervous wreck, but there was something about Tsukishima’s state that set him off. _Because it wasn't the Tsukishima he loved so much. He wasn't confident, cool and witty. He hated it when he was this...weak. Tsukishima acted like he was unbothered even though he was killing himself on the inside._

Yamaguchi grabbed his blankets and ripped it off of him, the sheets flying in the air. Tsukishima gasped, the sudden rush of coldness spreading all over his body. He initially tried to grab them back, but as he locked eyes with Yamaguchi, and realised how determined he was, he couldn't help but to fall backwards onto his mattress.

“Well if you want to be better than Kageyama, you should practice,” Yamaguchi said firmly, though there was a hint of fear in his words. _Maybe Tsukishima was going to kill him this time. Maybe this was it._

But Tsukishima didn’t move. He initially just stared at his mug, then took a moment before he took a sip.

Yamaguchi stammered and got to his feet. “Ah Tsukki! It’s cold, I’ll make a—”

“No it’s okay,” he said, continuing to drink it. Then he grabbed his glasses and put them on, blinking as his vision adjusted.

Yamaguchi watched him get up and grab his stuff. He only looked away when he stripped and changed into his casual clothes (Yamaguchi felt bad if he stared too much) (okay maybe he looked when he knew for sure Tsukishima wasn’t watching). Then, the violinist grabbed his case and calmly walked out.

“I’ll be back in a couple of hours,” he was his blasé self. It was like nothing had changed.

But Yamaguchi noticed some changes. Tsukishima had actually gotten up. He also took his advice for once. And above all, he decided to practice on a Saturday. It was like his motivation was boosted from the night before. It was incredibly subtle, but Yamaguchi prided himself in knowing him.

And it made him smile.

✦✦✦

Hinata heard a knock on the door. He lowered his set of freshly washed clothes on his bed as he opened it. He was surprised to find Tsukishima in front of him.

“Where’s Kageyama?” he asked, barely looking down at him. Hinata knew he was tall, but that's when he properly realised that Tsukishima towered over him. As in, Hinata was parallel to his chin.

He could only stare. Partially awkwardly because of how surprised he was. “He’s not here right now. He's down practicing in the music rooms.”

Tsukishima nodded, about to walk away when Hinata stopped him.

“He also listened to your piece, by the way,” he mentioned. Tsukishima stopped and turned around. “He spent last night listening to that Egdar Meyer piece over and over. It was really loud and I could hear it even though he was wearing earphones,” he explained, but quickly realised that Tsukishima got bored and started walking away. “WAIT!” he panicked and resorted to yelling with his hands cupped by his lips. “Kageyama printed off the piece for you guys! I think he likes it!”

Hinata couldn’t see his face, but Tsukishima was actually kind of smiling. Though he felt conflicted about it. He dreaded even thinking about Kageyama’s face, but at least they could play the piece he wanted. Yeah. He chose to just focus on that.

✦✦✦

Tsukishima peeked into practice room 2 and found Kageyama inside, squinting over his bass part. He first resisted, finding his body automatically walking away so he could go back to his room and sleep. But then he heard Kageyama play.

It was how Tsukishima imagined the piece to be — something smooth, technical and classic. It’s a timeless piece. When he heard that bass part, it made him sigh and turn the door knob.

Kageyama stopped. Then looked at him. They both stared at each other. Neither knew what to say. Like they were in a stalemate.

“Oh…” the bassist said, lowering his bow. “I listened to the piece and—”

“Yeah I figured,” he said coldly. He didn’t mean to be so cold. It just came out that way. “You sounded...you know…”

Kageyama widened his eyes a bit. “...good…?”

“You could say that,” he unpacked his violin and tuned according to the piano next to him. “I know my part fairly well so I guess we can get started.”

He propped his chin on the chin rest and bowed a solid, clean note. Kageyama matched him. They had a pretty similar tone, or at least, in the same realm. Both noticed, and shuddered at the thought.

They only practised the first few phrases. It was mostly to get a feel of one another’s playing styles and how they approached the piece. Kageyama interpreted it a lot faster than Tsukishima, who played it slow and eerily. But the longer they played, the more they got each other’s styles.

Neither talked throughout the practice, knowing that it would start another argument. Also they simply hated each other’s voices. Nonetheless, they couldn’t deny how great they sounded together. How solid their parts sounded when combined.

When rehearsal ended, Tsukishima quickly gathered his things and left. He was running later than the “few hours” he promised Yamaguchi, and he (secretly) desperately wanted to get back.

“Oi, Tsukki,” the bassist called.

Tsukishima looked over in complete disgust. “Don’t call me that.”

“Today was good.”

He tightened his lips but gave a minimal grin as he left the room. Kageyama stared at his music, wrote a few more corrections before chuckling. _Idiot_ —he thought— _what a complete idiot._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In future chapters, I'll start to introduce characters from other schools. What instruments should they play? 
> 
> So far, I decided that Oikawa will probably play the violin. I haven't fully decided on the other players though.


	12. Edgar Meyer’s Concert Duo for Violin and Bass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tsukishima and Kageyama get to do their performance again.
> 
> Daisuga get a little sentimental (and pretty gay).

It was the makeup assessment date. Tsukishima and Kageyama had dreaded it for a week. They had practised alone for the majority of the time, but they did suck it up and practice together after class when orchestra practice wasn't on. They barely talked throughout it, but they did get stuff done.

Kageyama struck a look of “are you ready” towards Tsukishima who nodded in response.

“Kageyama. Tsukishima,” Ukai Sensei called near the end of rehearsal. “Are you two ready?”

“Yes sir.”

The seats at the front of the orchestra looked weirdly haunting. For Tsukishima especially. He gulped, awkwardly adjusted himself on the seat, then placed his sheet music on the stand. He didn’t look gawkish as such—it was such a small change that only Yamaguchi noticed. But his unsteady nature made his best friend nervous too.

“What are you two playing for us today?” Ukai Sensei was clearly tired, expecting the worst from the pair. He was dreading that a similar outburst would happen or they’d perform something uninspired and mediocre. Or Kageyama would yell at Tsukishima in the middle of the performance. Honestly, the possibilities for negative outcomes were endless.

“Edgar Meyer’s concert duo for violin and bass, movement 1,” Kageyama answered.

The two musicians gazed at each other one more time, their faces tightening with a sense of confidence. They inhaled.

 _Egdar Meyer’s concert duo for violin and bass. Movement 1._ The piece is slow. It’s as classical as it gets. Complementary long tones from both instruments. They’re both deep, smooth and low.

The double bass sounded thick. It’s a full, grounded tone that cemented the piece into the ground. The violin was surprisingly similar. Though most duets would differentiate between the bass and soprano, this particular piece didn’t. Instead, it highlighted the similarities in sound, style and tone.

Because of this, it really complemented Tsukishima and Kageyama’s playing styles. They were both solid, technical and full-sounding. Despite conflicting in their personal lives, they made a well contrasted and cohesive duo, particularly in a classical piece like this. Kageyama would never admit it, but Tsukishima was right about something (for once).

The movement seized with a pause. A minor harmony. The sound echoed through the room, slowly dissolving into the air.

They took a deep breath and finally lowered their bows. The room bursted with applause and cheers. Their orchestra seemed genuinely shocked at their performance. Not only was it united, but it was good. Really good. Great even.

Ukai Sensei had the loudest clap. He stood to his feet and gave a genuine, and well deserved, cheer.

“Wow,” he chuckled, running his hand through his cowlick. “That was pretty amazing," he was resting down on his hips, his stance wide and proud. "The third years should be worried.”

Kageyama gasped, then bowed, a loud “thank you” exhaling from his lips. His eyes darted over to Hinata who was smiling at him like a goofy idiot. He looked like Kageyama's biggest fan in that moment—his eyes glistening and his cheeks raised. Kageyama clenched his hand and gave into a satisfying rush of euphoria. _There was nothing like giving a great performance. There was nothing in the world that felt as good._

✦✦✦

Daichi and Sugawara had quite a few responsibilities following orchestra rehearsal. Though all the students helped clean the band after the rehearsal, they were usually the ones to pack away the last stands and chairs. They also had the job of photocopying parts for some players; organising original sheet music; and even finding new pieces that the orchestra could potentially play. Actually, they especially needed another piece seeing that they had a concert coming up. They were originally going to do Candide but Ukai Sensei was hesitant, saying that they weren't ready to perform (but they definitely had the potential, so they might play it at the spring tournament instead). Hence, Sugawara and Daichi were on the hunt for another piece. They were tossing up a couple of choices, but they hadn't fully agreed on one.

They finally left the hall at 8PM.

"I think we need to do a piece that involves a solo. It's still interesting enough for the concert, but easy enough to piece together," Sugawara suggested.

"I agree," Daichi tucked his hands into his pockets, realising that it was freezing outside. "We never get to do solos since Shiratorizawa is virtually renowned for it. But since this is a showcase and not a competition, it's the perfect opportunity for one."

"Except I don't know who'll perform a solo. The first years are promising but—"

"It's too soon. We need to give them a couple of months to properly flourish," Daichi warned. "It's a safer bet to give Asahi a solo."

"But we were tossing up that one Samuel R Hazo piece, remember?" he reminded, the cellist humming. "And that has a flute solo. It'd give away too much if we gave him a solo at the concert."

"That's a good point," he pondered for a moment. "Maybe Tanaka. He's an up-and-coming ace and he's a good soloist."

"Ooh a trombone concerto," Suga giggled. "That could be fun."

"I guess we've gotta start researching."

The school felt ghostly at night. With the air being so cold, and barely any lights around school, it felt as if they were completely alone. It was refreshing. Even though they were roommates so they were alone together quite a lot, there was something different about being out in the open. It wasn't as restricting.

“I really want to make it to nationals this year,” Daichi said, his hands tightly wrapped around the straps of his case.

“Please don’t say something sappy,” Sugawara jokingly begged.

“I’m not Asahi,” he laughed. “But I’m being serious. This is our last year to make it happen.”

Daichi would never admit it, but he was losing sleep over it. As he looked over to Sugawara, he was reminded of how it all began.

Them. First years. They had met each other when they became roommates. He'll never forget first year Suga. His hair was shorter, his eyes were almost always widened with glee, and he seemed so excitable yet still so determined.

Then they met Asahi through the orchestra. Despite being in different sections, they were immediately drawn to each other due to complementary styles and similar tastes in music.

Daichi looked back and smiled at how naive they were. But really, first year was actually pretty tough. Karasuno were close to making it to Nationals the year prior, but when they joined, they didn’t qualify. Actually, they couldn’t even make it to semis. Daichi couldn’t even’t think about that competition. Not without shrivelling up internally. Being first years, they were somewhat blamed for their loss. _”If it weren’t for you, we would’ve done better”_ to _“well, we did better last year”_.

“I feel like everything's been leading up to us finally getting the orchestra to nationals in our third year,” Daichi explained. It felt like he was pleading to the world so it would listen.

He was hopeful, but he was painfully reminded of second year. They were so sure that they'd make it that year. The new first years were a promising bunch. Nishinoya and Tanaka in particular had a lot of potential. Nishinoya was a powerful trumpeter with amazing musicality. Tanaka was often overlooked, but he showed signs of being a solid soloist by his third year. Also the rest of the grade was filled to the brim with talent. And yet, they failed again. Semis, better than the year prior, but not the win they needed. It wasn’t enough.

“I also really want to make it Nationals. It’s a long time coming and we’ve worked too hard for it to all go to waste,” Sugawara agreed.

Daichi never forgot Sugawara’s face after they finished the qualifiers. Their bus that drove them to the tournament had stopped at a 24/7 convenience store on the way back to campus. It was around 7PM and all the boys were starving so most of them rushed in. It was the typical scene — Tanaka and Nishinoya rushing around the store while Daichi got mad at them and Asahi panicked to apologise to the store manager, though she looked absolutely terrified of him.

The now band captain had gotten a drink, one for him and one for Suga. It was a warm milk tea, perfect for the cold night. When he realised that Suga wasn’t inside with the rest of the band, Daichi walked outside and found him crying in the dark corner. He was tucked away on the other side so the others wouldn’t find him.

Daichi couldn’t ever forget that face. How distraught he was. How Suga was crying into his knees as he hugged his legs.

 _“Hey,”_ he remembered saying. Suga popped up, his eyes bloodshot. Daichi opened the milk tea for him and placed it next to him. “Are you...okay?”

Suga sniffed and gladly accepted the drink. “Thanks...and yeah. I guess.”

“We were really close this year,” he had said. “And we’re going to be even closer next year.”

“I know,” he gulped it down painfully. “I don’t want to be a debbie downer.”

“You’re just frustrated?” Daichi asked, and Suga nodded. “Yeah I get that. But I promise you that we’re going to Nationals next year. I know for sure.”

“Sure, and we’ll also be band captains next year,” he said sarcastically. _The irony now._ Suga wiped away his tears with his sleeve and cracked his neck from side to side. “No. No. I can’t be so pessimistic. I need to be stronger.”

“Suga, you don’t need to be strong for everyone,”

“But…”

Daichi took a sip of his own drink and used his other hand to gently pat Suga’s shoulder. The clarinetist collapsed onto him, and in turn, he gasped in slight surprise. But Daichi didn’t budge. He sort of loved it.

“You’re always so strong for everyone, and we love you for that reason, but you’re allowed to be a human,” the cellist reassured. He could feel Suga softly crying into his shoulder, the fabric of his school jacket becoming damper. He raised his arm and swung it around Suga’s waist so he could reel him in even closer.

“It hurts...it hurts to lose,” Suga sobbed.

“I know but, we have a lot to look forward to next year,” Daichi hearted. “We’ll be school seniors, we’ll get to move into the third year dormitory, and we’ll get a brand new shot at nationals with new kids. What if some great first year musicians come in next year?”

The clarinetist whimpered, “Most of those aren’t that exciting to be honest.”

He chuckled. “That’s true. Well, let’s add one more thing then,” Suga gazed up at him with glassy eyes. He resembled a lost kitten. And Daichi just wanted to take him into his arms and trap him in a tight embrace. He inhaled. His lips quivered, finding that he lost all confidence when he was this close to him. “I...you...together.”

Sugawara blinked. “...what?”

Daichi swallowed, really hard, then nervously let out a, “If we make it to Nationals next year...we should, I should—no—we should be together.”

His lips parted in shock, and he needed a few moments to process the information. He then stared back at him and gave a nod. “That’s another thing to look forward to next year.”

_“Daichi? Are you listening?”_

“What? Huh?” Daichi’s mind took a moment to flicker and turn back on.

“I was talking about qualifiers this year,” Suga said, clearly annoyed with Daichi’s lack of concentration. “I definitely think we should do a piece that showcases the bass section. It's pretty rare in the Miyagi scene so then we can stand out.”

Daichi stared at him, seeing the remnants of that crying 2nd year Suga right after competition. All he wanted do was grab him and never let him go. “I agree.”

Sugawara raised an eyebrow and smirked. He gently knocked Daichi's forehead with his knuckles. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah of course,”

“Are you daydreaming again?”

“Maybe,”

He snickered. “About me?”

Daichi just gave a belly laugh. _If only he knew._


	13. Sonata in F-sharp minor, Op. 81

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little Tsukishima and Yamaguchi bonding time because Yamaguchi is unconfident and a nervous wreck and deserves love and praise for how amazing he is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the suggestions from last chapter! It's helped me a lot. I'm sorry, but I can't incorporate every single suggestion because a lot of people said different instruments for the same character(s). But nonetheless, I got a lot of great feedback so i'll definitely be writing it in in future chapters. 
> 
> Thanks guys!

Yamaguchi carried his large laundry basket up to his dorm. He somewhat stumbled up the stairs and struggled to open the door. But as he stepped inside, he was hit with an earthy coffee scent that cleared his nose.

Inside was Tsukishima brewing some coffee in their cheap coffee maker he brought from home. He removed his glasses, the steam fogging them up, before he met eyes with Yamaguchi. The latter boy gulped.

“Tsukki?” he lowered the laundry box onto the ground in slight confusion. 

“I made you coffee,” he said robotically, lowering Yamaguchi’s mug onto the counter. 

The cellist stared at it in disbelief before taking it into his hands. It instantly warmed up his palms. “Thanks Tsukki,” he took a sip. “It’s really good!”

It was milky and weak like Yamaguchi liked it. In contrast, Tsukishima’s was a classic, black coffee. 

Tsukishima hummed at his response, grabbing his nearby book and lying down on his bed. It was oddly picturesque—him reading on his bed with his headphones around his neck. It was that domestic, calm Tsukki that Yamaguchi had warmed up to. Yamaguchi took another sip, the creamy, sweet drink dripping down his throat. 

He wished that it was always like this. Them, at home, lounging around lazily as they sipped on some nice coffee and watched the sunset. Music would gently flow through the air. A soothing scent of fresh laundry. Yamaguchi was practically drooling at the thought of it. 

“Why are you acting like everything is okay?” Tsukishima piped up out of the blue.

Yamaguchi stared blankly, his idealistic imagination washing away in a second. “What do you mean?”

“The last time we properly talked was when you yelled at me,” the way he said it was so casual and nonchalant, and yet the actual words were lined with melancholy. 

He tucked his chin towards his chest. “Because I like you no matter what,” he drank from his mug to cover his flushed face. “You weren’t acting like yourself that day and I missed you,” flashbacks of that night rushed through his mind. The way his chest burned with anger as he grabbed Tsukishima and thrashed him against the vending machine. “But I-I’m sorry I yelled at you Tsukki!”

“It’s fine,” he took a gulp. “I deserved it.”

“But I could’ve gone about it better. I could’ve been nicer about it—”

“Thanks.”

Yamaguchi blushed. Then squealed a little, “...what?”

“Thanks. I needed some sense knocked into me.”

He was still reading his book, so he never met Yamaguchi’s gaze. Because if he did, he would’ve found him on the verge of tears. He tried to not cry, thinking that Tsukishima would get mad at him, but he felt the sensation bubbling at his throat.

Whenever Tsukishima was in front of him, no matter how old he was, he was reminded of his younger self. The violinist was always cool. Classmates would run up to him to talk to him. He barely ever moved during lunch because other people would come up to him instead. They'd gush about how smart he was, how athletic he was, and how musically talented he was. Well, _is_. Still. And it was all true—Yamaguchi thought—though he always shafted to the side because of it. He'd hang in the background, watching everyone flock to his best friend. He'd watch Tsukishima get further and further away from him as everyone blocked his gaze.

It was no different throughout junior high. Tsukishima passed every exam with top marks, and this meant that he was regarded as a genius. A handsome, multi-talented genius. And Yamaguchi knew that, 100%. Heck, he'd rave about it (borderline brag about it) the most out of anyone. But it created an aura around him that people (particularly girls) were so drawn to. They were so drawn to him, in fact, that Yamaguchi was further and further pushed to the sidelines. Barely anyone knew his name. And the only time someone would talk to him, was because they wanted to talk about Tsukki. 

_'Don't get me wrong,'_ Yamaguchi would think. _'I love talking about Tsukki more than anyone else but...'_

The boiling point was when anonymous love letters were left in his shoe box. He remembered staring at it, feeling his hands tremble. Tsukishima had grabbed it, taking a moment to flip it around to scan every inch of it. He was clearly confused. 

“Are you going to read that?” Yamaguchi had asked. 

Tsukishima cringed. “No.” 

He had said before crumpling it up and tossing it into the nearest trash bin. Yamaguchi never understood how he could do something like that. He could imagine some girl crying because Tsukishima had destroyed her heart in a single second. He didn’t even give a single thought to read it. He wondered if Tsukishima felt that way to Yamaguchi; whether he barely thought about him too. 

That was the odd thought that lingered on his mind. Yamaguchi clearly loved him — despite how much he had to go through; despite how forgotten he was; and despite how he was always his sidekick. But Tsukishima on the other hand, wasn't as clear. It was like their whole relationship was one sided.

Yamaguchi initiated every conversation. He planned every outing they did. He even gushed about him all the time. In turn, Tsukishima was...silent. 

_But he was always silent, right? Tsukki's just...introverted. He's shy. He's a little socially awkward. It can't be because he didn't like Yamaguchi...right?_

_Deep down, he had to care about him. No matter what...right...? Or else he would’ve ditched him a long time ago. He wouldn’t keep hanging out with him. He wouldn’t have wanted to move in with him on campus, and would’ve chosen to have a random student allocated as his roommate._

_But why doesn’t he want to talk to him? Why doesn’t he try to make Yamaguchi feel better when he’s upset? Why does Yamaguchi feel so nervous around him? Why is he always so scared to upset him? Does he try too hard around him? Is that why Tsukki hates him?_

_Wait. Does Tsukki actually hate him? And he’s just keeping him around because he just can’t be bothered? Oh crap. Oh man. If that's the case why is he here? Why had he never noticed before? Why is he now realising that Tsukki probably always hated him and just got bored of saying no. He—_

“Yamaguchi,” Tsukishima called, rising to his feet. He suddenly grabbed Yamaguchi's shoulders, shaking him up a bit. 

Yamaguchi raised his pointer finger to his cheeks, realising that they were damp from his tears. “I...I don’t know why,” his nerves rattled down his neck. “I’m sorry Tsukki! I know you hate it when I overreact and it must be so annoying! I’m sorry!”

“Don’t be,” his voice was awkward from a mix of worry, surprise and confusion. “And I don’t hate...this.”

“I don’t mean to be so stupid all the time. I know you hate me for being an idiot,” he cried, wiping them one by one with both hands. They were overflowing. And he couldn’t turn it off. “I don’t mean to be so annoying either. I just really…” he sniffed. “I just really…”

“God,” Tsukishima rolled his eyes, stretching his arms and thrashing Yamaguchi’s body against his in the tightest squeeze. Yamaguchi gasped, collapsing completely into his embrace. It was warm. More comforting than he ever imagined it to be. Though he had thought about how it would feel a lot. “You’re an idiot, and it’s not because you cry. Or because you talk about me. Or because you’re bad at English.”

Yamaguchi chuckled with glassy eyes. “I am pretty bad at English,” he slowly inched his arms up to Tsukki’s waist. It was so small. It let him fully hug him, as if he was holding all of Tsukishima in his arms. And that thought made him happier than anything else ever would. “I’m just a little stupid for thinking that after all these years...of me liking you, you barely…”

“Of course I do,” he cut him off. It was a simple statement, and it was ambiguous in nature, but it was enough for Yamaguchi.

He gazed up at him. _Man, his jawline was so much better from this angle._

“Do...what?” a smile crept up his lips. 

Tsukishima let go of the embrace and returned back to his bed. Everything was back to normal. Though in that split moment, it felt like there was something different. “You know what I mean. Don’t act stupid.”

“Sorry Tsukki!” Yamaguchi knew he was pushing it, so he caved, knowing that he had already won. He took a sip of his coffee and slumped onto his bed. It was where he had left an open maths textbook alongside an uncompleted set of homework. He sighed, and reluctantly returned to his work.

But when Yamaguchi was turned away and in his own world, Tsukishima groaned to himself, “It means I like you. You idiot.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you guys have any ideas for plot lines, character growth or other things you want to see, comment below! I can't promise that they'll all make it in (eg. if they contradict with storylines I already planned for) but I'll definitely consider them.
> 
> Thanks for the support guys, stay safe, don't forget to drink water and thanks for reading!


	14. Sing Sang Sung

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A stage band is slowly forming at Karasuno.

It was only, like, 8AM in the morning, but Hinata was already rushing to get ready. On a Sunday.

Kageyama eyed him oddly, “Where are you going?” he had boiled the kettle and whipped up some two minute noodles for himself, about to open the second one for Hinata.

He grabbed his jacket, then his instrument and threw them both on his back. “I’m gonna go jam with some seniors.”

“Why does an idiot like you get to jam with seniors?” Kageyama spat, his mouth filled with noodles.

Hinata pouted. “You’re an idiot! They asked me!”

He slammed the door behind him and dashed down the hall. With the case, that was practically the same size as him, and his spirit lifted and fresh, he ran to practice room 1. He couldn’t contain his excitement. Him. A first year. With all these seniors. _Maybe he’d let them down. No. He wouldn’t. He’d been practising every day after school. If not, looking over sheet music. He’d ask for help sometimes too, including Kageyama now. He was ready. He was so ready for this._

Hinata kicked open the door to find them already set up. Tanaka and Nishinoya were blasting their brass instruments, trying to play louder and louder until their faces were completely red. It was the typical brass player antics. Their instruments crackled. He brightened, until—

“SHUT UP!” Daichi roared. The two second years halted.

“Oh Hinata,” Suga noticed him and waved kindly. Hinata had only seen him play the clarinet, but right then, he was unpacking a tenor saxophone.

“Woah,” the first year ran over. His saxophone was just a bit smaller than his, but still pretty big. Especially compared to Suga's usual B♭ clarinet. “You play the sax too?!”

Sugawara chuckled. “Yeah. A lot of clarinet players play the saxophone too when they want to play jazz.”

Another saxophone player (an alto to be exact) cleared his throat. Hinata had recognised him from orchestra—Ennoshita. He was one of the quieter ones, which was expected since the orchestra was filled with...let’s say interesting musicians. But from what Hinata could hear, he was a solid, well-defined player. Sure, you could say that he lacked flare and expression like some of the other musicians (particularly compared to the ones in that room) but he wasn’t bad at all. Again, he was solid.

“I-I wanted to start this band,” Ennoshita began a little shaky. He inhaled. “I wanted to start this band because there isn’t a jazz band in Karasuno so I thought it was a good idea...to...yeah. Basically start one,” the others cheered excitedly. He gained a bit more confidence with that. “Well I’ll be on first alto, Asahi said that he’d help on sax 2.”

“I haven’t played this in a while. Sorry in advance,” Asahi apologised, scratching the back of his neck. Seeing the alto sax in his hands felt a lot more visually fitting compared to his usual flute.

“Stop. Being. Negative,” Suga said, wacking the taller boy on the waist.

Ennoshita continued. “Suga will be taking tenor. Hinata will do baritone. Then, of course, Nishinoya and Tanaka on trumpet and trombone. Daichi, thank you for taking drums.”

“Aha, I’m not that great at drums either…” he mumbled, but when he saw Suga clenching his fist in the corner, he rushed to continue. “But I’ll try my best! It’ll be great!”

Suga eased.

“So we’re basically a full band. I mean, I’d like a bassist and a pianist. Maybe even a guitarist. But this is already great.”

All the boys unpacked their sheet music and propped it up on stands. Hinata scanned the piece up and down. He knew this piece basically front to back by that point. Heck, he virtually knew it before they even agreed on it. He grew up listening to it since it was one of the most well-known jazz piece in the history of jazz.

 _“Sing. Sing. Sing”_. It’s legendary—God-tier even. Every musician must play this at least once in their lives. It's classically 1930s big band. It started with a hard pounding melody by the whole band. Brass, alongside a strong sax section, created a brassy, tangy tone that's unfound in classical music. It's purposefully edgy, soulful and harsh.

There’s an ad lib saxophone solo too. This was the first time Hinata had heard one like this. Many classical pieces had solos, but an improv on top of simple accompaniment was unique to jazz. It felt so free and creative; not restricted by the notes on the page. He wished he could’ve had a solo like it, instead of playing back up like most bass instruments tended to. Hinata didn't want staccato crotchets. He wanted to rip through some runs and blast a powerful note.

The piece eventually got stripped back to the bass section. Low crotchets stitched together to form a bouncy melody. Then eventually the tenors would join with something a bit more smooth on top. Followed by the trumpets with sudden and vast crescendos on top of their long tones. It's then topped off with the alto saxes, who build up the cohesive chaos with upper register runs. And as the sections below them switch to loud yet sharp quavers, the whole room swelled with their intense and frenzied song. It's an anarchic storm that snowballed and snowballed, but it was simultaneously intricate and precise. Every layer had to be perfectly together to sound right.

A pause. It builds up. Getting louder and louder. Until. Seize.

They lowered their instruments. It was a little messy, but they were practically sight reading it. So considering, it was pretty darn good. At least Hinata thought so.

His face was bright red with passion and he was out of breath. He could feel every breath right in his lungs. He loved blasting pieces like that, but he had never been overpowered by the players around him like that. They were playing just as hard as him—instruments crackling, puffing, playing heavy.

Jazz pieces just...felt so different to classical. Hinata loved music no matter what, but there was a sense of freedom and expressiveness with jazz that he had never considered before. Stage bands were somewhat rare—at least, rarer than orchestras and concert bands. So it was the first time he played in an ensemble this. It was...different, to be apart of something like this. And properly play this genre. And he loved it.

✦✦✦

By the end of rehearsal, Hinata was completely out of breath. All the energy was drained out of him. He could barely lift up his baritone.

“That was amazing!” Tanaka cheered, the trumpet falling to his lap. He massaged his cheeks, the high notes finally taking a toll on him. “Ennoshita, your solo was so cool!”

The saxophonist blushed a little. “Thanks. I never really get solos so…”

“Solos are pretty rare in themselves,” Daichi stated. “Though this year there may be…”

“Don’t spoil it,” Suga warned.

The other boys instantly leaped to their feet, shouting at the top of their lungs. “THERE’S A SOLO?!”

“Shh we haven’t fully agreed on a piece,” Sugawara whispered. Almost like a mother talking down to all her kids. “There _might_ be one for the coming neighbourhood concert. We’re still not entirely sure about the spring festival.”

“Woah! A solo!” Hinata gleefully sighed back onto his seat. “That’d be so cool.”

“I bet Asahi-san will make a great soloist,” Nishi brightened. “Right ace?”

He shivered. “...yeah.”

“Are we gonna have auditions?” Tanaka asked.

The two captains shook their heads. “We’ll just choose a piece and the solos will be assigned accordingly,” Daichi explained. “Solos are important, but at the end of the day, it’s an orchestra concert. Not a solo concert. We need to choose pieces that highlight the whole band’s talents too.”

“That’s very true,” Suga hummed. “And it doesn't matter who gets the solo. We’ll support them no matter what because we’re an orchestra.”

The younger years huffed, pouting like obedient children. _He was right_ —Hinata thought. He would die for a solo, but the orchestra comes first. Plus, oftentimes, judges look past the soloist and listen to the accompaniment specifically. Mostly to make sure that the orchestra doesn’t solely rely on the soloist.

“Welp,” Ennoshita slammed his hands on his lap. “I think I should go. I better go practice for that music assessment.”

Nishinoya and Tanaka looked at each other. “What assessment?”

The 2nd year stared in disbelief. “The music one. You know? The scales?”

Their faces completely drained. They became withered and pale. Skeleton-like. Before they jumped to their feet and ran out of the room, instruments in hand. They left behind dust.

"Typical," Daichi laughed. "We should pack up and get something to eat."

Hinata nodded, still feeling the remnants of the shivers he felt when he played.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took a little longer to upload this chapter. I've been spending a lot of time planning for the next few chapters.


	15. Partita

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A sudden change in the orchestra sends shock amongst its students. Also the chapter ends with some Kagehina because we love and support the gays in this house.

It was about half way through an afternoon orchestra rehearsal. The first one for the week. As the days went on, they were getting closer and closer to the neighbourhood concert. Nerves and anticipation were high among the students. It was the first concert in the year, and though it wasn’t too serious, it really did cement how well they’d go for the rest of the season. You never wanted a rough start to a musical year. 

“So,” Ukai Sensei spoke up. “This particular concert let's us perform only one piece since it’s so early in the year. Candide is going along well but,” he sighed, already knowing how the orchestra would react. “We won’t perform it.”

The room swelled with confusion. Mutters and some backlash. Which was fair, they had been practicing this piece exclusively since the first week. And now they were just going to abruptly throw it out. They _literally_ hadn't worked on anything else. 

“We’re not ready,” he said firmly over all the musicians. “I’ve chosen another piece for the concert.”

“But sir!” one of the third years spoke up. “We have barely any time.”

That was true. Kageyama's eyes darted over to Hinata, who was also looking at him in confusion. They didn't want to object, but they simultaneously felt uneasy with the sudden change. Yes, it was just a concert and not an actual festival. But they didn't want to sound weak against all the other neighbouring schools. They needed to solidify themselves as a threat and actual competition. But suddenly doing a new piece right before the concert? They would sound so weak. All the musicians could agree on that. 

“That’s why we’re doing a solo,” Ukai Sensei pointed at the brass section. “Tanaka.”

“Yes sir?” the first trombonist stood up.

“Edward Gregson. Divertimento. Do you know it?”

He gulped. “I do.”

“Good.”

Ukai Sensei passed the sheet music to the violins who shared it around. They seemed the most reluctant with it, all staring at it in disgust. Though that’s expected for the strings, particularly first violins. Solos or featured parts tended to go to them in most orchestras. But at Karasuno, it was like the opposite. Wind instruments were featured the most, despite it not being a concert band. Suga and Daichi actually kept it that way—being told that it’s what made Karasuno unique against the other orchestras that were incredibly traditional. Particularly Seijoh. They loved to rely on their strong string section, never failing to show off their first violin, a viola and their wall of cellos. 

This trombone solo piece was interesting within itself. Edward Gregson. Divertimento. It’s usually a trombone solo with piano accompaniment but this version was altered to fit the whole orchestra. It really added a whole layer of depth to the piece. On the other hand, it made it a lot more complicated. There were so many other parts to listen to, as the soloist, ranging from bass countermelodies, trills and different rhythmic patterns.

Ennoshita handed Hinata his sheet music. “A Tanaka solo, huh?”

“I’m so excited to hear him play!” Hinata enthused.

“He has really sensitive ears and perfect pitch,” the second year mentioned. “He’ll kill this.”

Tanaka, despite being rough around the edges and a little wild, was a talented musician. He sometimes overlooked technique for just “feeling good”, but he really did have perfect pitch. He could hear when he was out of tune. He could hear when other people were out of tune. But what made him the best soloist, was the amount of charisma he had in his playing, which many musicians lacked. That, and how well he could identify what each musician did and what their parts sounded like; from ones next to him to the ones on the other side of the band. You could argue that he wasn't the strongest technical musician, or particularly well rounded in style, but he was much better than what people expected. 

The piece started off slow, but it was packed and sealed with tons and tons of interesting phrases and techniques. It’s a little bluesy. A little smooth jazz-like. Perfectly suited for Tanaka’s weighty sound. He had perfect support in his stomach, producing a pleasant, easy-to-listen-to tone. Hinata loved his glissando. It was throughout the piece, making the phrases sound more smooth and flowy. Then he’d abruptly go into flutter tonguing, which made the piece harsher. The duality in his playing style was intense. You could get whiplash from hearing it for the first time. 

_Woah._

Hinata couldn’t help but to take his instrument out of his mouth and look over. _Did he...just play multiple notes at once?_

Ukai Sensei gestured for them to stop. He talked to the violins, making them go over a certain part.

Ennoshita elbowed Hinata. “That’s multiphonics,” he explained. “He can play, like, three notes at once.”

Hinata gasped, staring at Tanaka in awe. Admiration overtook his body, and he couldn't stop imagining Tanaka in a suit, about to perform his solo on a huge stage in front of millions. Stage lights radiating down, and he'd close his eyes and blow through his trombone. _He really was a performer. Through and through._

Ukai Sensei tapped his baton and he snapped back into reality. “Can we go back to the ad lib section? Bar—”

_Wait. That was all improvised?_ Hinata gasped a little in disbelief. The amount of tricks he threw into his piece was _insane._ He had never heard someone show off this much. And Hinata loved it. He imagined himself doing something like that. _Heckie, all he wanted to do was do a solo piece just like that. Where he threw in every last trick he had so the crowd would go wild. Go wild like how he was doing in that moment._

✦✦✦

“Tanaka senpai! Tanaka senpai!” Hinata bopped up and down, almost like a broken toy.

“Haha, senpai,” he said with a belly laugh.

“You were so good! You’re awesome! You’re _so_ awesome!”

“Aha, _awesome_?” he said proudly. “Ahh, maybe.”

Kageyama came behind Hinata, slamming down his shoulders to stop him from jumping. “Shut up idiot,” he then looked over at Tanaka, his eyes suddenly glimmering. “Tanaka senpai. Your solo was absolutely amazing.”

“Thanks,” he pumped out his chest and gave a cheesy grin. He never got tired of hearing praises from his 'fans'. Especially when they called him senpai. _Ah, senpai. It sounded so cool._

“Kageyama, we need to practice!” Hinata enthused. His feet were scattered beneath him as he struggled to stay still. If Kageyama wasn’t there to hit him, he would’ve been leaping from wall to wall.

_“Ryu!”_ Nishinoya yelled, slapping him on the back. The two brass players exchanged wide smiles. “Good job! It’s like nothing’s changed.”

“Thanks Noya. Dinner’s gonna taste so good tonight,” he clenched his fists and closed his eyes. And when he did so, he could taste that delicious sensation of steaming rice and cheesy hamburg on his tongue. It tasted like... _victory_.

"You know what also tastes good? Going to Nationals!"

  
"Nationals!"

“Yeah!”

“YEAH!”

“YEAH—!!”

“YOU TWO THAT’S ENOUGH!”

_And we all know who screamed that._

✦✦✦

Even after dinner and a shower, Hinata couldn’t stop thinking about Tanaka’s solo. How amazing and inspiring it was. He was lying on his bed, the light beaming over his face. When he closed his eyes, it felt like the stage. The beating, hot stage he never wanted to get off of. His imagination was running wild.

Both boys had towels hung over their shoulders as they had just come back from the shower room. Kageyama was still outside, gathering their dried laundry. But Hinata was just thinking. _Tanaka_. He was shining. Even though they were at practice, it was like a spotlight was constantly on him. Hinata wanted that. He wanted to feel the burning sensation on his face. And he wanted to breathe it in and feel it warm up his chest. 

“Don’t forget your towel from the clothing line,” Kageyama closed the sliding door behind him as he entered the room from their verandah. “It’s gonna get cold.”

Their shared room felt particularly warm and comfy. With their freshly washed pyjamas, their energies still high from practice, and their stomachs full, it was the most fulfilled they’ve ever felt. But even with his comfort, Hinata just wanted to get out his baritone and practice. Practicing in their dorm after hours was banned (of course, since it would’ve been a complete mess otherwise), but Hinata was willing to break the rules just to let all his creativity out. It was travelling all around his body, as if it was in his blood.

Hinata sniffed.

“You should’ve dried your hair idiot,” Kageyama criticised. “You’re gonna get sick.”

Hinata pouted, using his towel to wipe his hair. “I won’t. I never get sick.”

Kageyama flopped on his own bed, taking off his slippers as if he was ready to go to bed. He always listened to music just before he fell asleep. _Mostly classical pieces_ —Hinata noticed, since he played them loud enough for the sound to leak.

“I want to recommend a piece to Ukai Sensei,” Hinata piped up.

Kageyama stopped before he put the other earbud in. “That’s overstepping it idiot. We’re first years.”

“But I want to play like Tanaka!” he kicked his legs. “That would be so cool! Like a solo! Oh gosh I want a really cool solo where I can belt like "bah bah bah" and then like a "swoop" into an even lower note and—!"

“Idiot! You’re. A. First. Year,” Kageyama spat. “And shut up! I’m trying to listen to my music!”

“Will you play with me?” Hinata asked.

He looked over in disgust. “As if.”

“Come on!” he whined, rushing to the other boy’s bed and kneeling in front of him.

Kageyama’s face churned with revulsion. He flicked him on the forehead, and Hinata went tumbling backwards. But the smaller boy came shuffling back just as quickly. He looked like a loyal little puppy who was just a _little_ too in love with his owner. 

“Get away from me,"

“You sound like Tsukishima,” that made Kageyama shut up. “No matter how loud, how fast and how complicated you play, I can keep up with you. I can keep up with anything you do.”

“Psst, you wish,”

“I will! I can do it!”

Hinata gazed up at him with complete dedication. His eyes were glistening with compassion, admiration and fondness. It was like Hinata was the sun. So bright and so passionate. Every inch of his body was burning. Because all he wanted to do was play. Play, eat, perform, sleep, repeat. And that undying feeling he felt towards music was something Kageyama understood to his core. It melted Kageyama's heart a little knowing that he wasn't entirely alone. The bassist could feel it too. Like little water droplets from icicles. For once, there was another idiot that stupidly loved music as much as him.

He glanced away, finding that Hinata's gaze was a bit too strong (if he stared back any longer, he would've simply crumbled). "Fine. Let's do a duet. A real duet." as Kageyama spoke, the saxophonist leaped up with overwhelming joy. "One day. After the concert because we're really busy practicing right now."

"Thanks Kageyama!"

"...shut up."

Hinata nodded and marched to the light switch to turn it off. Then back to his bed, curling himself into his bed sheets like a tornado wrapped around his petite body. Kageyama turned over, his phone blaring a piercing blue light straight into his eyes. He was about to click on a piece (specifically, the new Tanaka solo piece) but he took a moment to just breathe. _Hinata._ _What was wrong with that kid? He wasn't like everyone else. He was so...strange._

_He clearly had the same love and dedication to music like Kageyama. He couldn't stop talking about it. And when he explained that rush he got while being on stage, and that relief when he played his very hardest—Kageyama understood every single word. Half the time, Hinata wasn't even using actual words, and yet he knew exactly what he meant. Hinata was virtually a stranger; they'd known each other for less than a term. But Kageyama felt...different standing next to him. The tightening in his chest he used to get before dissolved into thin air._

Kageyama shuffled a little and looked over at Hinata who was already half asleep. Kageyama notcied that he liked to stick one leg out of his blanket as he slept. And that, he hugged his sheets tightly towards his chest. He sighed. Then turned on his music, hoping that this burst of thoughts in his head would drown out and die if he listening to it loud enough. He hated overthinking. He needed to stop doing that. 


	16. Pomp and Circumstance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Karasuno slowly get ready for the neighbourhood concert which is right around the corner. Meanwhile, Hinata sort of realises that virtually everyone at Karasuno's pretty gay. And does he liked Kageyama? Who knows. This fic is a slow burn.
> 
> Also we get a glimpse at another school (finally).

The next few weeks of rehearsals were going smoothly. Despite initial backlash to a sudden change in the piece, Tanaka’s solo had won everyone over. It was hard not to like him and his playing. He was charismatic, easy to listen to and what you'd classify as a traditionally "good" musician. Hinata admired him from a distance. As if his own gaze was the spotlight on Tanaka. 

“Isn’t Tanaka’s solo amazing?” Ennoshita whispered over in awe. The alto saxophonist could barely grasp onto his own instrument when he watched Tanaka perform. 

“Yeah he is," Hinata enthused

He watched the other saxophonist bite down on his lip, as if he was trying to contain his excitement. “He’s such a good soloist. He has perfect pitch so he gets every note perfectly. And he’s such a good listener too. I love accompanying him."

Hinata blinked. “Wow gee you seem to like him a lot.”

Ennoshita paused, then rushed to laugh awkwardly. Maybe a bit too loudly because the others around him stared in confusion. “W-What are you talking about?” he laughed again. “I don’t, I mean I do. But not like. Yeah,” he cleared his throat. “But Tanaka’s a really good player isn’t he?”

“Yeah he is! He’s one of the best,” Hinata agreed. 

“Yeah…” he gazed at the trombonist longingly. “He really is.”

In some ways, Ennoshita and Tanaka played in complimentary styles. They both had full tones and were clearly well supported and strong. But, Tanaka was a little friskier while Ennoshita was simple. Hinata imagined that they’d make great duet partners—Tanaka as the soloist and Ennoshita as a reliable harmony. It would let Tanaka shine in the spotlight, whilst still feeling safe because Ennoshita was behind him. Though behind the scenes, Ennoshita would mostly take the lead, deciding how the piece would really sound. 

Hinata noticed it during their jazz band rehearsal. He was smart, well organised and reliable— Ennoshita could make a good captain one day. People felt comfortable around him, including Hinata. Especially because they were in the same section. Whenever he stopped paying attention, Ennoshita was there to keep him in line. Whenever he was too loud, he'd politely tell him. Or when he missed what bar Ukai Sensei said they'd go from, he was always there to tell him. He was thankful for the help that the second year always gave him. 

Hinata smiled. “You should do a duet with him.”

“What? Me? And Tanaka?” he said, flustered. “I couldn’t. I’m not that good.”

“But I’ve heard you play. You’re good!”

“Not as good as Tanaka though…” he trailed off. But in a moment’s time, he just chuckled it off. “I’m already happy with just watching him play. Trust me.”

Hinata pursed his lips, looking between both him and Tanaka. “...if you say so.”

✦✦✦

“Ennoshita, how was I?” Tanaka strolled over to him with a dorky smile. 

The rehearsal had just wrapped up. It was the second last one, actually, before the concert. Which was crazy to think about. It felt like they had just gotten this new piece and they were already going to perform it in less than a week. Sure, it was coming together quite nicely, but it wasn’t the perfect piece they were going for. The _‘bang’_ they were promised with Candide.

“Mm, you were good,” Ennoshita hummed, packing away his alto. “You fixed that phrase at bar 36 I told you about.”

It was Hinata, Kageyama, Ennoshita and Tanaka who had unpacked their instruments fairly close to each other. So as they packed up, they made a little huddle in the corner of the room. 

“I did! It helped a lot,” Tanaka beamed. "Thanks Ennoshita."

He sheepishly glanced away. “Yeah...overall it was pretty good though.”

“What are you talking about? Ennoshita-san couldn't stop talking about how good you were!” Hinata interrupted. 

Kageyama walked behind him and smacked him on the head. “Don’t interrupt them idiot.”

“Really?!” Tanaka brightened and turned towards the other second year. 

Ennoshita cracked a smile. As if he caved when he saw Tanaka so happy. “Yeah. You were really good.”

“Thanks,” he wrapped an arm around his shoulder and gave a proud laugh. 

Nishinoya had joined them, tapping Tanaka on the shoulder. It broke the moment between them. Though it was completely unintentional on the trumpeter's behalf. “Oi, can you gimme a hand with those stands.”

“Oh yeah sure,”

“You too Kageyama,”

“Of course senpai.”

It left Hinata and Ennoshita alone to zip up their respective saxophone cases. Ennoshita happily and yet melancholically sighed as he sat back down.

“What’s up Ennoshita-senpai?” Hinata asked over.

He peered over to him and shrugged. “Nothing Hinata,” but there was a hint of reluctance to his words. “...have you ever looked at someone and think that they don’t...look at you the way you look at them?”

The first year stared in confusion. Then tried to piece the convoluted sentence together. “Nah.”

Ennoshita quietly snickered. “It’s like reaching for something that’s just too far. You can feel it on your fingertips but you can’t quite grasp it.”

“You should be a novelist,”

The second year pressed his lips together and smiled. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Hinata didn't fully understand what he was saying. So he tried to stack all the facts together. From the way Ennoshita seemed to constantly look towards Tanaka. To the way he talked when he mentioned him. All the way down to his mannerisms.  Then it sort of hit him.

“Do you like him?”

Ennoshita cracked a forceful fit of laughter. Then paused. “Is it obvious?”

“I don’t know,”

“Yeah, well I do,” he slumped his back onto the wall and crossed his legs. “I wish I didn't sometimes."

"Why? Tanaka-senpai's amazing! He's caring, he's nice and funny. He's a great musician too," Hinata encouraged.

"Because he's straight," 

“How do you know?”

“Because he won’t shut up about Kiyoko-san from that neighbouring girls school,” he said lowly. “I wish I was lucky enough to like someone who likes guys at least…”

Hinata’s expression was innocent and oblivious. “I don't think I've ever thought about that. How do you really know if someone likes guys?"

Ennoshita stared at him in disbelief. A look of _'you're kidding right?'._ “Have you...ever looked around this very room?"

Oddly enough, Hinata was telling the complete truth. He had never considered people’s sexualities, thinking that it didn't determine anything about a person. But now that someone brought it up, he really began contemplating it. 

Ennoshita cupped Hinata’s cheeks and forced him to scan the whole room. The baritone saxophonist yelped. “Look at them.”

The band captains were in the other corner of the room. Daichi was carrying a stack of chairs and Suga was right next to him, like he always seemed to be, as he did the same. The cellist was clearly excited to tell him about something. His smile was wide, his gestures were lively. And Suga was hanging onto every word.  _ Wait are they together? Are they going to be together? Suga laughs at everything he says. And Daichi seems to hate it when Suga talks to other people. Oh no. How did he miss it for this long? _

Then his eyes darted over to Azamane and Nishinoya who were busy wheeling away the stands. They also always seemed to be together despite being in different years. Nishi always had way more energy, jumping up and down, when Asahi was around. Like he was incredibly excited, though simultaneously he tried his best to show off. And Asahi was a lot calmer; he'd make sure that Nishinoya wasn't getting into any trouble, though he also enjoyed doing that. And he clearly became flustered when the second year got physically close. Which happened a lot. 

And Tsukishima and Yamaguchi. They were the definition of inseparable. Even then, as they were ready to head back to their dorm. Yamaguchi was always more open and honest about his feelings for Tsukishima. He bragged about him to everyone. Actually, he never stopped talking about him. On the other hand, T sukishima was covert.  He was usually cold and harsh, and though he was like that around Yamaguchi, it felt a lot more...nice? In some ways. He made sure that Yamaguchi was healthy and safe. Whenever Yamaguchi was out of his sight, he'd look around until he was next to him again. He was the only person he'd wait for.  _ Was it because they were roommates? Or because they were—? _

Oh. _Ohhhh._

Hinata had overlooked all of this. For months now. Which was a little stupid, now that he thought about it. 

"There you go," Ennoshita exhaled, patting him on the back. He walked away, feeling like an older brother that enlightened his younger sibling. 

_ But wait.  _ _Why was he stuck with Kageyama?_ He frowned. _At least the others got nice people. He was stuck with someone that constantly yelled at him. And told him to do the laundry. And shouted when Hinata got up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom._

“Hinata?”   
  


He yelped and turned around to find Kageyama. 

“Do you wanna head off to dinner?” 

The more Hinata thought about it, the more he realised that they were always together too. Well, they were roommates after all. But still. In the last few weeks, they _chose_ to be together. They practised together, they walked to class together, they had dinner together. Heck, sometimes they even went to shower together and then go back to their room together. They were supposed to hate each other. And yet, it seemed like they were willingly spending time together now. _Was it out of habit? Or was it because they actually...liked each other? At least platonically right? Not...?_

Hinata wanted to cry. 

“Oi,” Kageyama waved his hand in his face. “Are you even listening?”

Sure, he was a good musician. And he was sometimes funny. And he liked hanging out with him. Sometimes. But he was stubborn, and confusing and hard to read. He was also really inconsistent because sometimes he liked Hinata and other days he just didn’t. He also never told him anything—especially when he was struggling, which was when Hinata wanted to know the most about how Kageyama was feeling. 

Hinata gulped. “Yeah. Yep. I’m listening.”

He pulled a face. “Idiot.”

Kageyama already began walking away, his bass strapped over his shoulder. Hinata grabbed his case too and followed him, his steps feeling a little lighter as he did. 

✦✦✦

“Have you heard about Karasuno lately?” Iwaizumi asked. 

The two Seijou musicians were lounging around their shared dormitory. It was fairly big with lots of open space. T hey had open windows, a sofa, desks that weren’t smashed up against each other, and their own fully decked out bathroom. They rarely needed to leave their dorm.  It was fitting for the flamboyant and classy Oikawa (well according to him). 

“Oh? That washed up boarding school?” the violist mocked, sitting up. “Haven’t heard about them in years.”

“Well apparently they have some good first years,” Iwaizumi mentioned. “Including Kageyama.”

His partner gasped, lowering the book he was reading onto his bedside table. His eyes thinned for a moment before he let out a small chuckle. “The concert should be fun then. Better nail your part Iwa-chan.”

He grunted, propping himself up on his bed. “Shut up Crappykawa.”

“You shouldn’t furrow your brows like that. You’re gonna get wrinkles.”

Iwaizumi glared. “I’m going to kill you.”

“You wouldn’t. You’d miss me too much,”

“You wish I missed you.”

Oikawa reached over for his sheet music. The same one that they’d been playing for a while now. Seijou students who were enrolled in the orchestra usually got their required pieces sent to them before the year began so they could get a head start on the competition. They were given a file of literally every piece they'd need, and were expected to print them out before they moved back into their dorms for the new year. So Oikawa knew this piece from front to back. He could play it without the sheet music; transposed; and maybe even backwards. Oikawa was ready. He couldn't be more ready.

“I want to intimidate them so much they don’t even bother coming to the spring festival,” Oikawa said firmly. His playful tone stripped back to something a bit more sinister. 

Which was something that Iwaizumi was used to. He glared over at him,  “You really are a crappy guy."

“I know you don’t really mean it Iwa-chan.” 


	17. Enigma Variations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A chapter set in Seijou. We finally get a bit of a look at what their school is like, and their anticipation for upcoming concert.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter isn't too long, but the next two will be since they'll both be set in the concert. I'm super excited to post them, actually. Since this is the first major concert/competition in the fic.
> 
> And is this the first canon ship? Basically.

_Aoba Johsai._ That school rang a lot of bells for virtually everyone in the province. It was a prestigious private school with a modern, futuristic feel to the buildings. They had some of the strongest extracurricular clubs, from sporting to academics and of course, music.  And yet their teaching style was still traditionally Japanese—dedication, hard work and self-sacrifice was prioritised above all. Which was perfectly applied in the orchestra too.

Seijoh symphonic orchestra liked to stick to classical pieces. As classical as it could get. Beethoven. Mozart. Chopin. Very string based like orchestras tended to be. And so, captains tended to also be string players.

“Violins, can you do bar 32 with just a bit more ‘oomf’,” Oikawa was standing at the podium. Their last rehearsal had ceased a couple of minutes ago, but the band captain took the initiative to correct a few things before they left. “Makki! Mattsun! Blend a bit more in the opening. You’re too loud against the other wind players around you,” he flicked through the sheet music. “Oh and Iwa-chan,” the other band captain looked over, lowering his cello bow onto his lap. “Don’t change a thing. You’re perfect.”

“Shut up Trashykawa,”

He chuckled. “I’m kidding. But make sure to watch out for that phrase at the key change. Your section isn’t keeping up.”

Oikawa loved that feeling of standing on the podium; having the orchestra wrapped around his finger as he led them to a win. It was like he was overlooking everything; a puppet master. Like the orchestra was going out to perform and he was the one who helped them get there. 

He did love the viola too—of course he had to, he virtually got a featured part in every piece—but he always felt as if he needed to take matters into his own hands so all the sections pieced together perfectly. And Iwaizumi was always there to help as well. Oikawa wouldn't be where he was without Iwaizumi. He'd never lie about that. 

He sighed to himself, watching the large orchestra diverge and pack away their instruments. Iwaizumi walked up to him, looking over his shoulder to view the paper on the stand. He noticed that his sheet music was littered with corrections for all the other sections. You could barely see the actual bars underneath. The violist scanned his eyes up and down, about to grab his pencil to write more but Iwazumi grabbed him wrist.

“You can barely even read this,” Iwaizumi stated, taking the pencil out of his hand and placing it back on the stand. 

Oikawa stretched a smile. “It's okay. I remember it off by heart.”

His comment made the other band captain sigh. He closed his music folder for him, and carried it away. Oikawa pouted and trailed after him. He led them towards their instrument cases, which were some of the last ones left in their hall. It had been a long, long night. 

"We should get some rest. The concert is tomorrow night and it's not like we can improve in the next few hours," Iwaizumi said nonchalantly, zipping away his cello.

"Someone's lazy," he mumbled. 

Iwaizumi glared. "Huh?"

"Nothing."

Oikawa would never see it, but Iwaizumi was right. He spent countless nights glued onto his sheet music, staring at every little thing that could go wrong. And that was time consuming, considering how large their orchestra was. He had also started planning for the next concert, making in all the sections that could go wrong there too. It was like he took it upon himself to make sure that Seijou were at the top. No matter the cost. 

“Don’t push yourself. It’s not your fault if the orchestra messes up,” the cellist placed a hand onto his shoulder, staring at him dead in the eyes. 

He chuckled. “That’s funny. We’re not gonna mess up.”

Iwaizumi cracked a small smile, patting him on the back like a _‘good luck with that’_ because he knew that he couldn’t snap him out of his concentrated state. Once Oikawa's head was in the game, it was impossible to reel him out into the real world. And sometimes he was worried about losing him.

✦✦✦

The musicians carried their food to the upstairs area of the cafeteria. By that time, it was virtually empty. Orchestra ran overtime, so most of the students were already back to their dorms. These musicians, however, were particularly late since they stayed longer to pack away and practice their respective parts. Maybe to an unnecessary extent. 

“Crazy to think that the concert is already tomorrow,” Matsukawa said, massaging his cheeks. They had played for hours, so his lips were loose and weak. He could barely talk. 

Hanamaki hummed. He was always quiet, but he was more quiet than usual because of his sore cheeks. The two trumpeters were definitely the most worn out since their piece forced them to blow notes at the top of their range. And they were a pretty limited section compared to the monstrous string section. 

“It should be interesting to see the other schools. Though we’re the best either way,” Oikawa quipped confidently. “Right Iwa-chan?”

Iwaizumi glared at him, then shrugged. “Karasuno’s first years have a bit of a reputation. Especially because Kageyama is there.”

Oikawa scowled, stuffing his face with rice to ignore him. Kindaichi and Kunimi glanced at each other with slight worry. 

“Kageyama?” Kindaichi mumbled. 

He immediately reminisced about the last time they talked properly. Before graduation, before exams. It was at their last band tournament. 

_ 'You’re the reason why we lost.’ _

Kindaichi, in some ways, regretted saying that. It was in the heat of the moment. It was because Kageyama was chosen for the solo above every single person in that talented band, and he proceeded to mess it up. It was further heightened by the fact that he spent almost every practice complaining about every other musician.

_ ‘You’re not playing loud enough’ _

_ ‘You’re not playing fast enough’ _

_ ‘What are you doing? That’s not the phrase’ _

Kageyama used to say something along those lines every single rehearsal. He’d spend more time yelling than actually playing. _And what did he do at the actual concert?_ Mess it up. He messed it up for the all of them. And Kindaichi would never forget it. 

He snorted. “Hope he doesn’t mess up another solo.”

Kunimi chuckled, sipping his water. “Do you remember when he demanded a solo because _‘no one else is good enough’_?”

_'I, me, my'_ were the only words that Kageyama could mutter. It was like he viewed their orchestra as peasants beneath him. People that were there to highlight how good of a musician _he_ was. And in turn, Kindaichi could only ever look at him as a ruthless, cold King. Until his people just up and left. And that's when he lost his power. 

“I’ll never forget it,” Kindaichi gave a loud laugh. “I bet Karauno’s gonna have something bass heavy or else Kageyama will throw a hissy fit.”

Oikawa’s eyes lit up, as if a thought popped into his head. He took a swift sip of his drink, his fingers tapping along the plastic side as his mind wandered all over the place. 

Iwaizumi noticed and whispered over, “What are you thinking about?”

The other band captain shrugged. “Nothing.”

✦✦✦

It was 11PM. The night before the concert. But Oikawa was still up in his room, intensely watching his computer. The device was propped up on the pillow and he sat cross legged on top of his bed. 

Iwaizumi walked in, a towel wrapped around his neck. He had that freshly-out-of-the-shower smell that Oikawa liked. But that day, he didn’t bother to look up. Instead, he was completely distracted by his task, his eyes glued to the screen in front of him. 

“What are you doing?” he peered over his shoulder. 

“Looking at some of Karasuno’s old pieces,” Oikawa muttered, almost inaudibly. 

“You're checking out the competition now? The concert’s tomorrow,” Iwa moved to his own bed while saying this. 

“I know. Might as well though.”

Oikawa searched extensively. All the way to the corners of the web. From pieces listed on their websites; videos of them playing at concerts; to middle school performances by current musicians at Karasuno. He was quick to find a pattern in their pieces. Karasuno seemed to favour their winds, like brass and woodwinds, above the string section. At first glance, it was obvious that there were more wind players compared to the standard orchestra. Usually, the overwhelming majority of the orchestra would be string players—mostly violins, followed by a wall of cellos, a few double basses and sometimes a viola if the orchestra was lucky. And there would only be a few wind players; a couple of clarinets, flutes, trumpets and trombones; maybe an oboe, bassoons and french horns.

But Karasuno, for some reason, tackled it completely differently. They might as well have had a concert band. Maybe because the school was too small for multiple bands so they just chucked everyone in to form one stew of an ensemble and called it an orchestra. He wouldn’t know for sure. But the change in ratios really changed Karasuno’s style of music. 

They did mostly concert band pieces—he noticed. They opened themselves up to military marches, jazz waltz, variations, suites while orchestras around Miyagi tended to stick to classic orchestra charts that even the general public knew. Which was exactly the case with the piece Seijou picked for the concert. 

Oikawa gave a small smile to himself, humming as he clicked onto another video. _Yes, it could be said that Karasuno’s repertoire was a lot more interesting than Seijou, but that showed signs that they hadn’t really found their sound yet. They were relying on being interesting more so than the quality of their players. Hence, they were probably weak_ —Oikawa concluded. Though, maybe with those new first years, there would be a change in scenery. 

It was now 1AM and Oikawa was still in front of the computer. Iwaizumi sighed, lowering a bottle of unopened tea onto his bedside table. He had bought him one after a small walk he went on to refresh his head (which was something he tended to do before a concert).

“You should take a break,” he insisted, nudging Oikawa. “It’s been hours.”

The violist grinned, cracking his head from side to side. “Kageyama won’t do a solo.”

“What?”

“At the concert. He won’t do one,” Oikawa lowered his headphones and caved into a big yawn. “Karasuno tends to show off their brass. And if last year was any indication, they’re gonna give a brass player a solo.”

“How do you know?”

“They stuck to brass heavy pieces for all of 2011. They apparently liked this one trumpeter and trombone player. And I did some digging too,” he shuffled over for Iwaizumi then showed him his screen. “Nishinoya Yuu. He got a platinum at that brass recital a few years ago and won the entire thing.”

Iwaizumi knew exactly what he was talking about. Hanamaki and Matsukawa had competed the year prior and only got a gold and silver respectively. 

“And Tanaka Ryuunosuke. He was a bit harder to find,” he scrolled through his tabs. “But Karasuno obviously loves him. Virtually every piece they performed at the last spring festival featured a little trombone solo.”

Oikawa scanned his eyes through the web pages he’d found of them, followed by obscure videos on youtube with only a couple of views. Iwaizumi sighed, falling back in amazement. _He knew that Oikawa was dedicated, but he was basically a stalker. This was the person he decided to fall in love with. Out of everyone in the world._

“I don’t think we need to worry,” Oikawa cracked a confident smirk, stretching out his arms. He set aside his things and wriggled into his bed. But not before reaching out for the tea that Iwaizumi got for him to take a sip. "It's just a concert, not a competition, so we just need to do enough to intimidate them."

"Then why'd you stalk them?" the cellist reached over to the lamp to turn it off.

It took a couple of moments for Oikawa's eyes to adjust. "So we know what we're up against in the spring festival. We don't want to be blind sighted, right Iwa-chan?"

"I guess not..."

"You're welcome!"

Iwaizumi began to make his way to his own bed, but Oikawa reached out for him. He just managed to reach his sleeve. 

"What is it?"

"Iwa-chan..." he peered up at him, his eyes wide and almost pleading. 

"Oikawa..."

"Can I get a goodnight kiss?"

Iwaizumi glared at him, so deathly that Oikawa instantly regretted it. His whole body shivered but he quickly realised that he couldn't run anywhere.

"HUH?" the cellist spat. Then proceeded to beat the shit out of his head. "Go. The. Hell. To. Bed."

Oikawa frowned. "Fine."

When he least expected it, Iwaizumi leaned down and pecked his forehead. "There you go. Idiot."

The other band captain hurried to sit up, his face flushed red. "Iwa-chan!" the cellist looked around. "I said kiss! That was a peck!"

"GO TO BED!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, if there's a ship you want to see more, or storylines or even pieces, let me know. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	18. Divertimento

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the day of the concert and Karasuno perform their piece. But on their way, they run into Oikawa, and Kageyama doesn't react too well.

It was the night of the concert. And Karasuno were in complete shambles. Like you'd expect.

Hinata and Yamaguchi could barely go a second without puking. Tanaka and Nishinoya were constantly yelling, and they virtually trashed everything they passed. Asahi was on the verge of fainting. Tsukishima was close to giving up and leaving again. Kageyama was basically dead. Some of the third years were just here to get shit done. Most of the first years fell silent. And Daichi and Suga were just trying to keep their children alive long enough so they could perform.

“K-Kageyama,” Hinata’s voice trembled. “Do you think we’ll do well today?”

“Shut up! I don’t know!” the bassist shoved him. 

“No. We’ll do horribly today,” Tsukishima teased. 

The concert was set in a concourse located at the centre of Miyagi. It was a lot less covered in trees compared to Karasuno, and a lot more spacious. The building comprised of a wide set of stairs leading to a grandiose door. The whole level was virtually made out of glass, with windows revealing the neat, monotone corridors. 

Karasuno made their way down to the performance hall. They planned to sit in the audience until the intermission, since they were on in the second half. And the band captains were just hoping and praying that they could keep their orchestra happy and settled for that long. _Hopefully the music would calm them._

_ “Yoohoo! Tobio-chan, long time no see,” _

They stopped. 

Hinata noticed that Kageyama’s hand trembled a little as he turned around. “Oikawa-san…”

The saxophonist’s eyes lit up. He was the one that Tsukishima had mentioned weeks ago; when they first met. _The King. The King of Music._

“I’m so excited to hear you today. I hope you’ve been practising,” Oikawa’s tone was so patronising. His words alone could have beaten him straight through the ground. “I also hope you don’t throw another hissy fit Tobio-chan.”

Kageyama stared down at the white-ish grey tiled floor. He parted his lips to talk, but he could only manage a small grunt. Staring at Oikawa felt like sinking into a black hole.

Iwaizumi took notice, so he intervened with a small tug at Oikawa’s jacket. Their eyes met. An inaudible “leave him alone” and a reluctant “fine” made the latter band captain pout. “We’ll see you later, okay? Super excited to hear you play.”

The two third years turned around and walked off. Oikawa was just as smug as Kageyama remembered. But there was a part of him that _still_ couldn't get mad at him. After all these years. Because he had the talent to back it up. Kageyama would kill to play like him. And no matter how much Oikawa wanted to destroy every bit of him, there was still a particle of his conscious that let him overlook it. If there was a day, when Oikawa apologised and offered to tutor him, Kageyama would most definitely brush everything off and agree in a heartbeat. He hated to admit it, but it was true. 

“H-Hey!” Hinata suddenly spoke up. Everyone stared at him in confusion. His face was a sickish green and he was still clutching his stomach, but he had the confidence to stumble over to _The King._ “W-We’re sounding great! And Kageyama’s a great player!”

Oikawa stared down at him and Hinata felt a shiver trickle down his spine. The Seijou band captain snickered, “What’s that shrimpy? You’re so far down I can barely hear you.”

Hinata lost all the colour in his face. 

“Come on,” Iwaizumi rolled his eyes and tugged him away. _The King felt a little less threatening when he was with his knight._

“Are you alright?” Hinata asked over to Kageyama. His roommate didn’t budge. He was frozen in place; his stance wide, his face pale, and his lips bolted shut. As if he had lost all the energy in his body. “Kageyama?”

“Okay, we can’t let that get to us. Let’s go,” Daichi interrupted, lightly brushing past the first years to lead them down the hallway. 

Sugawara followed right beside him. “Why didn’t you intervene quicker?” he muttered over, gripping his clarinet case a little tighter. The sudden rise in tension made him feel claustrophobic. 

“It's obviously something that's holding back Kageyama so he’s gotta face it himself,” Daichi said firmly. He sounded a little tougher than usual, but it was clear that he cared for Kageyama and wanted him to grow and mature. 

Meanwhile, Seijou headed towards the other door. They were also performing in the second half of the concert. But were occupying seats on the opposite side of the stage. Which was probably for the better after that encounter.

“I’m surprised you didn’t hit me Iwa-chan,” Oikawa said jokingly.

The other band captain sneered. “I couldn’t embarrass you in front of Karasuno like that.”

“You’re so sweet, what happened?” Oikawa happily sighed. “And now Tobio-chan has a boyfriend? We’re all changing and maturing, aren’t we?”

“That shrimp? Didn’t think that’d be his type,” he joked. 

Oikawa was laughing too. Until his eyes sharpened and he muttered a cold, “I hope he breaks his heart.”

“You’re a piece of crap,”

“Aw, just because I wanna see him cry,”

“Again, you really are a piece of crap.”

  
  


✦✦✦

_ “Please welcome to the stage, Ohgi Minami High" _

The first orchestra was introduced to the stage. The room went pitch black. The only thing visible was the stage, which was undeniably glowing under the lights. In that moment, it looked like the brightest thing in the world. 

And Hinata usually wouldn’t miss something like that. But he couldn’t concentrate with Kageyama next to him. His face was set in concrete. He hadn’t moved or talked since seeing Oikawa. 

“Psst, Kageyama?” Hinata tugged at his sleeve.

“...shut up,” even his insults felt weak. 

“Kageyama?”

“Hinata. You need to quiet down. They’re about to perform,” Suga warned gently from the seat above.

The first year pursed his lips, then returned to the confines of his chair. Though he kept on staring at Kageyama from the corner of his eye. _He needed to be okay for the performance. Kageyama._ But Hinata felt more of an urge to cheer him up because they were friends. _Partners, even._

The icy yet caring, idiotic and chaotic duet partner that Hinata grew accustom to, despite how offbeat and socially awkward he was. But the guy sitting next to him, viewing the performance with a thousand-yard stare wasn't him. That's not Kageyama. But Hinata didn't know how to bring him back. 

✦✦✦

In no time, Karasuno were back stage, getting ready. The schools before them were better than they expected. Though some were more like a standard orchestra, others were solid. Like, really solid. As if they could've been professionals already. 

_ “Please welcome to the stage Date Tech” _

They were waiting backstage, their instruments already unpacked. The musicians were scattered around the cramped space, trying to get their head in the game. Reading over their music; warming up their instruments; mentally going over all the things they couldn't forget while on stage. 

Nishinoya was handling it a  _ bit _ too loudly though. “We’ll do great! We’re gonna kill this performance! And all the other teams can—!”

“Quiet down Noya,” Asahi tried to laugh it off. He held his flute under one arm, and used his hands to try and tighten Noya’s tie. “Hey, hey. Stay still.”

“Asahi-san good luck! You’re gonna do amazing on your part!” Nishinoya jumped up and down. 

The third year nervously chuckled. “Thank you...but Noya, Date Tech are performing right now..”

“But you’ll do amazing and—!”

“Thanks, thanks,” a nervous sweat dripped down his forehead as he smoothed out his friend's tie. “There.”

“Thanks Asahi-san!”

He grinned. “No worries.”

They had tuned briefly in the warm up room and they were now waiting by the wings of the stage. Hinata blew warm air through his saxophone. 

Date Tech began playing, their sound a little muffled from where they stood. Even so, their sound was clearly well grounded and each section supported one another. It was a thick sound. The basses and tenors especially, were strong and their sounds blended with one another. They had mastered the pyramid of sound.

Hinata shivered. “Hey Kageyama? Are you okay?”

The first year wasn’t moving. Still. And they were about to get on stage. 

“Come on,” he tried to reach out, but Kageyama slapped his hand away. And it was a lot harsher than he intended, and yet, he refused to take it back.

“Leave me alone you idiot.”

That’s when Hinata just let it go. He bit down on his lip and turned away. _He couldn’t keep thinking about him. No. He had to concentrate on his music. Don’t miss the accidentals. Count the bars of rest. Listen to all the sections._

“Everyone gather around,” Daichi called. Date Tech were close to finishing. “We’re really close to performing at our first concert together. I’m really excited and I hope you guys are too.”

“Yes!” they all called back.

Daichi smiled. “Good. We’ve worked really hard for this. And if we stick to everything we know, I know for a fact that we’re going to sound amazing out there.”

Ukai Sensei continued off of him. “Guys, don’t forget everything we’ve practised. Don’t be too loud, except for you Tanaka. Listen to everyone. Remember the pyramid of sound. You guys have worked really hard. Don’t forget that when you’re playing.”

“Let’s go,”

_ “Let’s go!” _

All the musicians mentally pumped themselves up. _This was it. The concert. This was everything they had worked towards up until then._

On the way to the stage, Hinata accidentally bumped into a Date Tech student. They locked eyes. It was a tall, well-built teen with icy hair. His eyes were stern, emphasised more because of how tall he was compared to Hinata. 

“A-Ah I’m sorry!” Hinata flopped forward to bow.

The other boy continued to stare, then bowed back. “Sorry. I didn’t see you.”

He shivered. His seriousness made the burn worse. 

“Come on Hinata,” Suga pulled at him.

" _ Now introducing, Karasuno High.” _

The stagelight peaked through the curtains, and Hinata watched it slowly reveal itself as he continued to walk on to the stage. It was warm. Like the sun, but more inviting and comforting. He took his seat within the orchestra. But the whole time, he was dazed. It felt like he was dreaming. Or living amongst the inner workings of his head. Because when he was on stage, he could hear his thoughts a lot better. 

He was in the moment—he felt every inch of his body burning; every breath pass through his lips; the buzz in his head; the pulsing in his fingertips; his toes scrunching. 

When his eyes adjusted, he could finally see the audience. People sat all the way around the stage. From the front, to both sides and even the back. At least half of every stand was filled up. But from where he sat, it felt like the whole world was watching.

They had a quick tune. Just to make sure that the band was together. Hinata, as the bass, was one of the first to play his instrument. He blew, his thick baritone sound echoing throughout the auditorium. He caught everyone's attention. Right then and there. This tiny teen that looked like he could barely lift the thing up, just filled the entire room with his sound. But that was just the beginning. 

In some ways, it was risky to do a solo at their first concert. They basically cemented who the shining member of the band was, and it was still so early in the year. Now the whole music world knew about the player Karasuno relied on. Who they were gonna showcase. But it was too late to take it back. So they needed to play so incredibly well, that they wouldn't regret it. So they'd never, ever regret it. 

Ukai Sensei walked to the front of the stage. The audience gave a polite clap. He cleared his throat. 

“Today, we’ll be performing Divertimento by Edward Gregson.”

Iwaizumi immediately looked towards Oikawa. He never underestimated his capabilities, but he hit the nail on the head. Oikawa somehow predicted their piece. He swore under his breath and collapsed back onto his seat.

“I hope you enjoy our performance.”

He raised his baton.  _ This was it. The performance. There was no turning back now. So they had to give it their all. Or else they’d regret it for the rest of their lives.  _

The piece opened with a clarinet soli. Gentle and serene to set the mood. As if they were building a foundation for Tanaka. And it was perfect for him. He came in with smooth long tones. Playing like he was gliding through a clear sky. 

Then the percussion came in. Adding a bit more depth to their music. Followed by the rest of the band. Their melodies were fairly simple, but piecing them together was difficult. Especially because the band had to be together, whilst still highlighting that one soloist. 

As Tanaka continued his solo, the other brass players would come in to support him, harmonising with his melody. At that moment, it felt like Tanaka and Nishinoya were doing a duet within the piece. One that was powerful, but not overbearing.  _ Just like they practised. _

Then, the ad lib section came in. Tanaka would slowly but surely climb up the scale until he was high into his register. And when he reached the top of that high mountain, he blasted a dangerous and violent flutter. It was a roar. One that echoed as far as he could see. It was so powerful, it ruptured the atmosphere, piercing right through the dome that the warm lights created. 

Tanaka felt the music swell beneath him. It felt like their music was overflowing throughout the room. Sound filled to the corners of the room. Everything was dyed in the orchestras’ colour—a warm, full, orangey hue. 

The orchestra blasted one last note. A mellow, homey major chord. And Tanaka placed himself on top. Not yelling, but instead, singing a well supported bellow. 

_Karasuno_. They just rose out of the ashes.

The whole room erupted with a large round of applause. It was from all directions. And the musicians felt as if they were flooded with cheers. Almost drowning in it.

Hinata sighed.  _ They did it. They actually did it.  _ In that moment of absolute relief, he looked over to Kageyama, but he wasn't gazing over like he tended to in these moments. No. He was staring down at his music. Still blank. Still empty looking.

All the applause fell silent. Hinata couldn't hear a thing. All he could hear was Kageyama's gentle sigh of defeat. 


	19. Ein Feste Burg Ist Unser Gott

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seijou perform their piece for the concert. Also some angst with Kageyama's ex-friends, and Oikawa who's really scary ngl

It was nearing the end of the concert. Karasuno was now seated at the back of the audience. They could make out the stage clearly from where they sat, since the stairs were on a downward incline. It was shaped like a bowl, with the centre being the stage. 

All the students were still high from adrenaline. There was a rush that came with performing, especially when you performed that well. Your mind goes blank and you let your body move in time with the music, and by the time you wake up, all that’s left is the buzzing and the heartburn. 

And now, there was only one performance left.

_ “Aobajohsai High.” _

And they were the most nervous to hear them. Karasuno performed to the best of their ability, but they knew that they still had a long way to go. Firstly, Date Tech, that went before them, posed quite a threat. Their sound blended so well, and they had a strong bass and percussion section. They resembled a wall; a wall of sound, which seemed impenetrable. 

And Seijou. They were one of the strongest orchestras in their prefecture, there was no doubt about that. So it sparked a sense of anticipation throughout Karasuno. They were on the edge of their seats as the Seijou conductor grabbed the mic and announced. 

“Today, we’ll be performing Pomp and Circumstance.”

This was as classical as you could get. Most bands performed this piece. But no band seemed to properly mastered it. Because there was a big downfall with this piece—everyone knows it; everyone’s performed it, so the standard for this piece was so much higher than any of the other classical pieces that were performed that day.

Kageyama locked eyes with Oikawa. The third year pulled an expression that he could only read as _ ‘watch this’ _ . He propped up his viola, his bow hovering above the strings. 

The piece began with a purposefully held back melody. It sounded muffled on purpose. But it built up very quickly. It’s a march. It’s lively, proud and fun to listen to. 

Marches were particularly hard in orchestras (though it was incredibly hard to tell when Seijou played it). Oftentimes, winds and strings had a hard time blending. Strings sounded more thin, and winds tended to be too loud. But Seijou mastered that ratio perfectly. The melody was a perfect brew of violin and trumpet, and it was beautiful to listen to.  The percussion was also steady and strong. It allowed the rest of the orchestra to rely on them because that’s what a good percussion section does—provides a backbone for the march. 

Around 2 minutes into the piece, the melody shifts as they enter a slower part. This was the most iconic part of the piece. Everyone knew this section. It's in commercials. It's in movies. It's played during school graduations. 

Seijou tweaked it slightly though. It's usually a soli. But Kageyama could make out Oikawa standing from the sea of instruments. With his viola, he played that iconic phrase. By himself. The spotlight was on him. And he was glowing. 

It was tranquil, with gentle vibrato to roll on his phrases. Then as he sat down, the rest of the strings came in. They built upon where Oikawa started—a melody that sailed along a calm and serene river. Their sounds were so well blended, that it sounded like one person was playing it. And even as the brass came in to support them, the sound was still so evenly spread, that you couldn’t properly tell that they had come in. It felt like specks of brass in a sea of string. That’s something that most orchestras struggled with, since the trumpets (all brass instruments actually), had such a distinct and striking tone. 

Then. Just like that. It became powerful. In one note. It’s the same phrase as before, but just by the whole orchestra playing at a forte, it sounded big and dynamic. It’s proud. The melody is pumping out its chest. And the whole orchestra was fusing into one. 

But then the strings brought the melody back to the march. Staccato and sharp. The rest of the sections chirped into their song. Countermelodies would come in and out, and slowly by surely, the music would piece together again. All of their runs were so precise. It’d go up and down the scale with perfect timing. 

The musicians were pushing the piece upwards. Travelling up the scales, climbing higher and higher. Then it slowed—a rit—as it was just about to hit the top. Then it reached.

The peak. It was a different scenery there. Strings at the top of their range. Trumpets blasting at with chests filled with air. Percussion smashing the surface of their instruments. Like they were finally putting their all into everything. And as they did, it felt like an aurora dazzling along the mountain tops. Exquisite. Indescribable. Heavenly.

They were everyone's rivals; the ones to beat. But watching them on the stage like that...it was hard to hate them. The more Hinata watched them, the more he wanted to join. Their sound filled the entire room. Chaotic runs on top of a grounded bass. And it finally ceased with a major chord. One that literally overfilled the entire building. Hinata felt his back press against his chair, as if their sound was suffocating him. He could feel the Seijou wind against his face. It was almost Godly. 

Seijou.  _ They somehow…they somehow mastered that piece. From the transitions to the balance in sound. Most ensembles would get whiplash from a piece like that. But Seijou, they grabbed it, and held it under their palms, then used it as a lead to take the audience to their world. _

Hinata wasn’t playing, and yet it left him with the same, pulsing sensation in his body that he got when he played earlier. He was taken on a journey with their piece. It left him completely speechless. Lost. And in need for that same rush. 

The room was filled with cheers, and yet, Hinata couldn’t hear it. All he could do was gawk at Oikawa, who stood up as the soloist in the midst of applause, and reach out for him. _ He wanted that. Hinata needed that.  _

✦✦✦

Kageyama waddled out of the audience. He was on his way to get himself a drink before they returned to school. Karasuno were given a bit of time to wind down before they got on the bus. 

But Kageyama was far too distraught to relax.

_ Oikawa was right. He was so right. He hated to admit it, but he always seemed to be right. And that hurt. It was incredibly painful to admit it. But God, he was right. _

_ “Kageyama!” _

Turning around, he encountered the last person he thought he’d see that day.

“Kindaichi.”

_ When was the last time they talked? At the junior high concert?  _ Both boys blamed each other for that fact, and also for that day.

Kageyama was a ruthless dictator. He had a tendency to tell everyone what to do. Well, more like  _ yell _ what to do. Endlessly. 

_ 'You’re not playing loud enough’ _

__

_ 'You’re not playing fast enough’ _

__

_ ‘What are you doing? That’s not the phrase’ _

As the double bass player, he was virtually the backbone for the orchestra. He led the timing, the tuning, the mood. The orchestra relied on him. So he needed to be the best. And sure, he was advanced and incredibly technical, but as the years went on, he began having tunnel vision. Like he was in a completely dark room, and he was left chasing the thin light that he thought could be victory. But right before he entered the stage for their final junior high concert, he finally looked beside him. From left to right. And realised that he was completely alone. 

Kageyama bit down on his lip. “Y-You—”

“Shut it,” he cut him off. “I don’t want to hear anything sappy from you.”

“I just wanted to say that you...you…”  _ sounded good. Say sounded good. Compliment his playing. It’s long overdue. _ “...you...played...today.”

“What?” 

“You—”

“If you’re trying to compliment me, just shut up,” he spat. “It’s too late for any of it.” 

There was a silence between them. It was only brief, but it felt like an eternity. Neither knew exactly what to say. They couldn't muster up an apology, but they didn’t want to blame each other either. They were in a stalemate. Kindaichi could never forgive Kageyama—or so he thought—for forcing him under his reign. He never wanted to be a blind servant again. 

But then Kunimi strolled into the conversation casually. “Kindaichi? Is everything okay?”   
  


The cellist snapped out of it, and shook his head. “Yeah, I’m just talking to the Prince.”

“Well hi Kageyama,” Kunimi breathed in the thick air. He felt just as awkward, but seemed to be the only one that thought of reeling themselves out of the situation. “Well, they’re probably waiting for us so—”

Kageyama grunted. “I’m not like that,” the two cellists halted. “I’m not like that anymore.”

“Okay...great! Nice to see you—”

“Do you know how much torment you put us through?!” Kindaichi yelled. His words resonated in the hallway. “The constant yelling; telling us that we suck; shouting at us because we can’t do anything right. I was thinking of quitting music until Kunimi told me not to. You can’t just waltz back here, say you’ve changed, and expect everything to go back to when we were 12.”

“I never said I wanted things to go back—!”

“Then why are you still here?!” he screamed. His words felt like razors inside of his lungs. “You’re a selfish, ruthless, oppressive prince and that is never going to change.”

“Kindaichi,” even Kunimi interfered. He placed a hand onto his chest to hold him back. 

“And if you’re gonna apologise, I don’t want to hear it. It’s useless.”

They used to be a section. They had been a section for all of junior high school. Two cellists and a double bass. But when they were in front of each other, they wished they were strangers. Because it was painful to watch each other drift apart. 

Kageyama inhaled sharply. His hands were numb. His throat felt parched. He couldn’t meet their eyes. “I’ll see you at the spring festival then,” he muttered, defeated. He wanted to scream; scream so loudly that they cower back. Or just walk away and pretend they don’t exist. But there was a small part of him that refused to lose. “But no matter what happens, we’ll beat you and go to Nationals.”

He walked away, feeling the remnants of their fight trail behind him. It felt like they were tethered together somehow, though he wanted to cut it off at all costs. And that very string was formed out of every word he shouted at them; every insult he ever threw. Kageyama  felt the aching in his chest come back. It pulsed and pounded and he just wanted to curl up and cry.  _ They couldn’t see him cry. No way. They don’t matter that much. _

  
  


✦✦✦

  
  


Hinata skipped to the bathroom, humming to himself. It felt refreshing now that the concert was over. All the stress he had at the beginning of that day had flushed away, and it was replaced with exhilaration from performing.  He loved music. He really did.

_ “Hey Chibi” _

That patronising tone made Hinata shudder. He gulped, and slowly turned around. Oikawa and Iwaizumi were towering over him, their eyes were slightly thinned.

“You were good today,” Iwaizumi said, his voice flat and monotone. He tried to sound nice. He wasn’t very good at that though. 

_ Oh no. The two band captains. From Seijou. Oh no.  _

Hinata was on the verge of tears. He uncontrollably trembled, his mind darting towards either running away or faking his death on the spot. Maybe the second one. Most likely the second one.

“Too bad it was just a concert today. I was excited to beat Karasuno to the ground,” Oikawa teased, maliciously staring down at him. It was as if the devil had possessed him. 

“I…” Hinata’s lips quivered. 

The cellist swore under his breath.  _ Please don’t cry. Please don’t cry. Please don’t cry.  _

Iwaizumi glared at his partner with an expression of ‘what the hell is wrong with you’. To him, Hinata was some helpless little baby that Oikawa was shamelessly tormenting. 

“But you shocked me today chibi. You can play pretty well for someone who’s shorter than their instrument. I hope you bring everything you’ve got to the spring festival,” Oikawa sneered. Hinata stared down at the ground to avoid his intimidating gaze. Not only was he overly confident, but he was also a third year  _ and _ a mercilessly talented musician. Hinata admired him greatly, if he didn’t look so scary. “Oh and tell my dearest underclassman that I miss him and I was excited to hear him play...even though he didn’t.”

“You mean Kageyama?” he mumbled out. It came out parched because of how scared he was.

“Yeah, your little boy toy,” he pulled an animated expression and crossed his arms over his chest. “It was so strange. I saw him open his music, but I swear his bow never touched the strings. And he has a recognisable sound too. I wonder what happened.”

Hinata shuddered, then sat back on his heels. “I don't…”

Iwaizumi slapped his partner on the back of the head. 

“Ow,”

“Sorry about him. He can be an idiot.”

He wrapped his arms around him and dragged him down the hallway. Oikawa kicked and whined like a toddler, but Iwaizumi ignored every bit of it, clearly knowing how to handle him. He was used to it.

“Ow, Iwa-chan. That hurts,”

“I don’t care,”

“You can hold me a bit more gently, you know?”

“I know,”

“Like you do when we’re alone~”

“Shut up.”

Hinata watched them disappear. He was left there in a state of overwhelming nervousness and plain confusion. But most importantly, a huge question _. What’s a boy toy? _


	20. Finlandia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kageyama is still shaken up about Oikawa. Hinata tries to cheer him up. But it all ends in angst.

Kageyama and Hinata sat in their room in silence. It was 1AM in the morning. The band had gotten back quite late, so it left them exhausted. After an awkward and lengthy bus ride, they had dinner in an empty cafeteria and taken showers. This wasn't too far from the ordinary routine, but things were...different. Still. Kageyama and Hinata were next to each other the entire time, but they didn't talk once. Not since their performance. 

Hinata just wished for it to be over—this weird, not talking thing they were doing. He was ready for things to shift back into the normal life he learnt to love. Particularly because it was the last day of term. They were now entering into the holidays, and if this was to continue, well, Hinata wouldn't know what to do.

He dried his short locks with his towel as he slumped down onto his bed. He faced Kageyama, who was throwing on a jacket.

“Where are you going?” he asked. 

Kageyama was wearing his pajamas but he was clearly about to leave. “I need to get a drink.”

“Oh...okay.”

Hinata didn’t know whether he should’ve said something. Kageyama was clearly shaken up because of Oikawa. But he didn’t expect it to get to him this much. He had never seen him like that. He didn’t even fight back anymore. He was just, _simmered_. He wasn't riled up or cold or showed that sense of passion. He was just...lukewarm.

Hinata jumped up from his bed.  _ If he wasn't going to do something about it, Hinata would.  _ He ran out their room; down the hallway; raced down the stairs; and even past the shoe racks at the entrance of their dorm. He leaped straight into the cold, outside world, which was hauntingly dark. 

He couldn't see Kageyama. It was impossible to see anything. But he knew exactly where he’d go. To the vending machine. Where he’d get himself a carton of milk. Hinata noticed that he did this whenever he was preoccupied by too many thoughts. Like after an exam, or studying, or when he practised just a bit too much. Hinata had gone with him a couple of times, and they'd spend the whole night arguing (though in the last few weeks, it grew to become more of a playful banter). 

Kageyama was exactly where Hinata predicted he'd be. The double bass player was squinting at the bright light, as he struggled to find some spare change from his back pocket. 

“Kageyama!” Hinata's shout bounced along the buildings. It was loud enough to shake the neighbouring windows. 

He shuddered, then turned around awkwardly. “Shut up you idiot! People are trying to sleep!”

“I just wanted to know what’s wrong,” Hinata said simply, stopping by Kageyama's feet. He peered up at him with a firm yet worrisome expression.

Kageyama glanced away, “What are you talking about?”

“You didn’t...you didn’t even bother to play today,” 

His eyes widened, "How could you even tell?”

“I just know. I can hear you.”

He was taken aback. Partially from his ability to even tell that a single double bass player wasn’t playing accompaniment. And partially because of how upset Hinata seemed to be. His eyes were glassy, and he was reaching higher and higher towards him, as if he was reaching out to help him. 

“Tell me!”

He slurped his milk. Almost like a bratty kid. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Why not? I’m your partner, you need to tell me everything,” he pressed even further. Both verbally, and literally. He was taking confident steps towards him, and Kageyama backed up more and more, until his back was on the vending machine. 

“No I don’t,” he said sourly. “A-And I’m not your partner!”

“But Kageyama—!”

“Shut up!” he shouted, so loudly, that his voice crackled. Hinata hesitated. “I can’t stand him. I hate Oikawa. I hate him as a person. I hate him as a player. Seeing him really pisses me off. He never shuts up! And I hate it, but you know what sucks even more?!” he sharply inhaled. “That he’s bloody right! He’s a great musician and I can’t beat him. I know he's one of the best in the country. But I need to beat him. I need to prove him wrong. I need to—”

“Kageyama!” Hinata abruptly bolted closer strangling him by the collar. Kageyama's drink toppled to the ground. “There’s a lot of “me” talk.  _ I _ need to beat him.  _ I _ need to be better. You’re not facing him alone!” he looked at him, dead in the eyes. “I’m right here.”

“Shut up!”

“Stop telling me to shut up!” he yelled even louder than him. 

“Just leave me alone,” Kageyama snaked out of his grasp, shoving him aside as he walked away. He just left him there. His partner, his roommate, his friend. On the ground. “You are such an idiot. I can do it on my own.”

Hinata couldn’t stand it. He couldn’t stand him. He rushed to his feet and literally jumped at Kageyama, pushing him even harsher than before, as he forced him to turn around. “You’re the idiot!”

The taller boy scooped him from his collar, strangling him. Hinata couldn’t feel the ground. “Leave. Me. The. Fuck. Alone.”

Hinata placed his hand over Kageyama’s. The same hand used to suffocate him. “I won’t.”

“Let go of my hand dumbass,”

“I’m not going to let you go until you admit that you need me!”

“Let go!” he tried to shake him off, but Hinata was grabbing onto him too tightly. “I can do it on my own.”

“I don’t care if you can do it on your own. That’s not what matters,” Hinata cried, feeling tears bubbling at his throat. Kageyama’s hand was getting numb. “We’re in this together! We’re going to beat Oikawa together. As an orchestra. I’ll always be—”

“I don’t need you!”

_ “Hey! What are you two doing?!” _

Tanaka bolted, immediately jamming himself between them. Hinata loosened his grip of Kageyama's hand, making him topple to the ground. And in turn, Kageyama winced backwards, realising the severity of the situation. 

The two first years finally took a breath. The three of them stood there, close to each other, though it felt like they were miles away. _ Kageyama. Tanaka. Hinata.  _

“What the hell is going on?!” Tanaka yelled, his eyes bulging out of its sockets. “Kageyama. What happened?”

He grunted, shoving his hands into his pockets. He was even further detached than before. Turning away, he escaped Hinata’s gaze, and left them on a sour note. No words, no looks, no nothing. He just melted into the abyss.

Tanaka tiresomely exhaled. “Are you okay?”

Hinata glued his lips together, feeling them tremble. His chin and cheeks ached. He turned to Tanaka with glassy eyes, parting his lips to say a ‘thanks’ but he couldn’t muster up anything. He just sniffed, and closed his eyes, hoping that this was all a dream. 

“I’ll get you a drink.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a jarring question but:
> 
> Smut? No smut? A bit explicit? Or nothing of the sought?


	21. Voices of the Sky

Hinata was lounging around in his room. After the fight with Kageyama, he stayed at Tanaka and Ennoshita’s room. Visiting another year’s dormitory after hours was considered a breach of the school rules, but Tanaka was quick to dismiss that for him. Even Ennoshita, who was a little stricter, agreed in a heartbeat. 

Hinata spent that whole night thinking about it. Their fight. Every inch of it. How he felt. How Kageyama looked. The feeling of those words escaping his mouth. And the sting of what Kageyama had said. His hand continued to ache; it was the same hand he used to grab Kageyama. And the one he unfortunately fell onto after he thrashed him to the ground. It served as a constant reminder of what happened.

He laid on the hard, wooden ground of the 2nd year dorm, yearning for his bed. Yearning for what the routine he grew accustom to. It wasn't the same without Kageyama. They'd say goodnight to each other, Hinata would turn off the light and jump straight into his warm bed, and he'd listen to Kageyama's music as it was always so loud, that the sound would pour out. And Hinata would eventually fall asleep to the soft melody. 

It really wasn't the same when they weren't together.

The next morning, he slipped out of the 2nd year dorm after a huge 'thank you' to both Tanaka and Ennoshita, and entered the confines of his familiar dorm. By the time he arrived back to his room, Kageyama was gone, and so was his double bass. He presumably went to practice, and Hinata guessed that he wouldn’t come back for the entire day. Which gave Hinata the opportunity to settle and recollect his thoughts. Maybe focus on playing the baritone, but he also didn’t want to run into him at the music rooms. 

He flicked open his computer. An email was sent out with the pieces for the spring festival. Since it was the holidays, the students were given the opportunity to go back home. Which meant that orchestra rehearsal was halted for two weeks. But during that time, they were expected to print out their respective parts for the listed pieces and, of course, practice. A lot. The spring festival required 100% commitment and effort. And that thought alone made Hinata excited.

He clicked on the document, and listened to the pieces while looking over his own part. 

_ ‘Candide’ _

That was a given.  _ Thank God. _ It was the piece they had been working on since the first week. And it was coming along quite nicely. A lot of ensembles tended to throw themselves into a piece like this; trying to get everything done as quickly as possible since it was so difficult. But Karasuno tackled it section by section, trying to get every intricate detail under their fingers before they pieced it all together. It was something Hinata needed too, as a not-so-technical musician. 

_ ‘First Suite in E Flat’ _

A Gustav Holst piece. Not the most well known (that’d go to Jupiter), but this was definitely a loaded piece. Starts slow, goes to something preppy, then ends with a bang. It featured a range of instruments throughout it. Despite that, Hinata noticed that it was particularly bass heavy compared to other pieces. The basses almost carried the whole chaconne section, with the winds and strings lightly peppered on top with maze-like runs. Each section of the piece was so different from each other too. It was difficult, to say the least. Technically. Musically. And rhythmically. 

_ ‘Arabesque’ _

The last piece. It opened with a beautiful flute solo. The ace’s solo. Followed by a slow climb to a completely bombastic fiesta of music. It’s animated. Vivacious. Vibrant. But underneath it all, is a complicated piece. Every section had their part to play. The basses, with a sturdy foundation. Tenors, with their countermelodies. Altos and their harmonies. And finally sopranos, with their knotty melodies that were recognisably difficult to play. Samuel R Hazo was the only composer that could pull off four different, chaotic melodies playing alongside one another (and not on top of each other). 

The trio of pieces was diverse and a great way to showcase Karasuno’s talents. It was difficult. Incredibly difficult. But with hard work, Hinata knew that they had what it took. But even with Hinata's stubborn nature, he couldn't deny that the first years in particular needed to study these pieces. It was nothing like junior high music, which tended to be a lot more fun and energetic. These pieces had layers. It was mature. 

He stared down at his case. He contemplated whether he should’ve gone to the music rooms. On one hand, maybe Kageyama did need space, so running into him would lead to more conflict. His hand still ached from the way he held onto him the night before. He should just leave him alone. He could’ve practised some other day.

But then again, he didn’t want to give up. It felt like he was letting Kageyama win, even though he knew he was in the wrong. Plus, he needed to practice. It's what musicians do. 

Hinata grabbed his case, instantly feeling the aching through his hand. It was like lighting bolts were stabbing him. But he fought through it and ran out of the room, not giving a single thought to whether he’d see Kageyama or not. 

✦✦✦

The outside world was overwhelmingly hot. Sound of cicadas rang faintly in the air. The soothing scent of summery trees surrounded the school. It was ghostly empty because of the holidays. On top of that, most people refused to be outdoors on a day like that. 

Nishinoya bit down on his icicle, feeling the soda flavoured syrup drip down his throat. “I can’t believe you have a solo!”

He was clearly more excited than Asahi, who was shivering at the thought of it. “I-I can’t believe it either…”

“I’m so excited to hear it!”

The two boys had stayed behind on campus for the holidays. It was only a two week holiday, so they didn’t see the point in leaving. Plus, there was a weirdly fun and borderline haunting feeling when staying on campus because of how empty it was. And it was no different at that moment. As the two musicians found shade by a tree, they surveyed the nearby area—it was deathly empty. You could hear a pin drop.

“I don’t think I can play it…” the ace sighed.

Nishinoya leaped to his feet.  _ “What?!  _ Why not? You’ll kill it! The “tooo tooo tooo” part would sound so cool. And you’ll sound great in that “thwart thwart” because you always kill phrases like that!”

He chuckled. “Thanks Noya.”

“You’re literally so good. You’re getting in your own way.”

Deep down, Asahi sort of knew that. But he couldn’t help but to fear performing. The potential of failing constantly lingered on his mind. He couldn’t falter. Not like last year. Not like when he wobbled a note at the last spring festival. It was his fault. They could've done better. But it was because of him—

“We need to work on your confidence,” Noya piped. 

Asahi looked at him with confusion. “What are you talking about?”

He grabbed his hands. Both of them were grossly sweaty from how humid it was, but they were too preoccupied by each other's gazes to care.  “I want you to realise how good you are. You’re the ace Asahi-san! You’re the best and you deserve this solo.”

With every single compliment, Asahi felt more and more deflated. The lingering thought of failing. He didn’t want to let anyone down. Especially Nishinoya. “Thanks...but—”

“You’re upset. Why are you upset?” he shifted closer to him to get a better view of his face. Nishinoya was simply trying to decipher his expression, but Asahi was taken aback by how close he was. Their noses were basically touching. “Are you nervous?"

“I’m not nervous,” he lied. “I’m just worried about the whole piece. The solo is hard, but the rest of the piece is somehow even harder. There are so many runs, and I have to play so loudly and,” he shivered. “I don’t even want to think about it.”

“Oh the “ba ba baa baaa baa” part,” Nishinoya, despite being a really talented trumpeter, couldn’t sing. His butchering of the melody made Asahi snicker. “Yeah I’m really struggling with that part too. There are so many high notes and it’s really hard to reach them all the time. Guess I gotta go practice,” he was so bright. “Oh! And I have the countermelody there. So it’s like we’re playing a duet!”

And when he enthused so optimistically, Asahi couldn’t help but to exhale happily. He held onto Nishinoya’s hands even tighter to reassure him. “I guess so. Let's practice together.”

“That’s so cool! You. Me. A duet. In the spring festival!” he jumped up and down like a jack-in-the-box. “We definitely need to practice together! So we get a feel for each other’s styles.”

“Though you already know how I play,” he grinned. “You always match me perfectly. Even though I’m too quiet, and our tones don’t sound similar, you still manage to pull it off. You’re an amazing player.”

His eyes glistened. “T-Thanks Asahi-san.”

It was just the two of them, in the completely empty and deserted area. Asahi felt his heartbeat faster and faster. It echoed in his ear. Nishinoya was gazing up at him, his eyes lingering on his lips. The 3rd year could read his expression well (he always could) but there was something in him that held him back. So he just let go of his hands and gave a little grin. Nishinoya sunk back on his heels, slightly defeated. 

✦✦✦

Asahi  broke the rules for this night only. He was playing his flute after hours. He was quiet, but he was taking it just as seriously as he could. He still did every phrase to the best of his ability. Most of the rooms on his level were empty since it was the holidays. Even his room was empty, with his roommate going back to stay with his family for the next week. It felt pretty spacious because of that.

Arabesque was a difficult piece. He couldn’t properly wrap his fingers around all the notes without sounding messy and blowing too harshly. Music is an art form. So even if he got every note down, he needed to make it sound good. That’s the part he struggled with. 

He sighed, and sat on his bed. The flute was now warm. He must’ve been playing for hours at that point. He had quite a while to practice and work things out. But even so, he didn’t want the nerves of the festival to get to him and ruin everything. There was a chance that even after all of that, all the practise and hard work he’d put in, he'd sike himself out and fail while he’s on stage. And if he fails on stage, it wouldn’t matter how much he tried. How many countless hours he spent on it, because the only thing that counted was the performance you serve on that stage. 

_ “Asahi-san! Asahi-san!” _

Nishinoya’s voice faintly rang in his ears. He was always so hopeful. So optimistic. Something that he didn’t have. The second year was always a reminder to look on the bright side. It helped him manage his stress and pessimism. He was his sunshine. And he needed sunshine to grow. 

_ “Asahi-san!” _

He whipped his head around.  _ Oh _ . _It’s literally Nishinoya._ He was happily slamming against the window.  _ God. It looked so suspicious. _ He would’ve been genuinely concerned—I mean, it was some shorty that practically broke into his dormitory, and was now standing on his verandah like it was no big deal. And in the pitch black, he looked like a child ghost. 

The flutist rushed to open the sliding door. “Noya? How did you get on the verandah?!”

He proudly said, “I climbed!”

“It’s the third level,” he was dumbfounded.

He shrugged. “I like trees.”

Nishinoya entered the room, his eyes roaming around the spacious area. It was nothing like his 2nd year dormitory. It was so much bigger, and the third years finally got their own shower. It felt more like an apartment than a room. 

Asahi’s shoulders were tense as he followed Nishinoya. The second year looked as if he was exploring new lands. His eyes were wide, and he ducked his head into every room. “You can’t just break into the third year dormitory, you know?"

Nishinoya blinked. “Yeah you can. I just did it.”

The older boy tiresomely sighed.  _ Typical Noya. Always taking things into his own hands to get things done. _

“So why did you come over?” Asahi poured some water into the kettle. He had some pomegranate tea lying around (which was one of Nishinoya’s favourite teas). He even grabbed the mug that Noya had bought for him a year prior. It was when Noya went on a road trip across Japan with his family, and he spotted a large mug and, apparently, instantly though of Asahi. Which was sweet? He doesn’t really know.

“So we can work on your confidence,” he was kicking his legs while sitting on his bed. Asahi laughed at how he couldn’t reach the ground. “We need to Asahi-san! You’re not working to your full potential if you don’t.”

He grinned. “You’re really kind Nishinoya.”

“So?” he tapped the spot next to him, and Asahi sat down. “What’s making you so nervous?”

“Well…” he pondered for a moment. “Everything. Because I have a solo, it’s like everyone’s counting on me, and that scares me.”

Nishinoya was always loud. He was hyper, he was destructive and he was childish. But when Asahi was pouring his heart out, he shut up. And listened. “Well, about your solo. We’re counting on you because you’re amazing and we know that you can kill it. Plus, you’re counting on us to accompany you, right?”

“Well I guess so,”

“So we’re in it together,” he said it as if it was nothing. But it made Asahi feel better. “You’re not on stage alone. If you fall behind, I’ll be right there to catch you.”

“Noya…” as Asahi looked at him, he noticed all the differences on his face. He'd known him since Noya was a first year, when he was so much smaller and somehow more chaotic. He could never sit still. But now, though he was loud and hyper, he always delivered when the time called for it. So in some ways, he really did mature. He was always a team player (despite being such a good musician) and made sure to include everyone in everything. He loved that part of him. And in that moment, he finally realised how much he'd fallen for him.  “I…”

The kettle screamed in the background. The high pitched sound broke the tension. Asahi gawkily stood to his feet and entered his kitchenette. He quickly filled the two mugs, and was instantly hit with the refreshing fragrance. It was fun, yet calming. Maybe like their relationship. 

He carried their drinks back into his room, finding Noya rubbing his hands together awkwardly. His face was visibly flushed. “Thank you.”

“No worries,” he took a small sip. 

There was another moment of silence between them. That didn’t seem to ever happen. Asahi sometimes wondered if he was socially awkward, but Noya never was. He was so spunky and fun. He never ran out of things to talk about, to a point where people found it overwhelming. But Asahi never thought that. He loved listening to everything he had to say. From his weird love of fish; his hatred of moths; to every intricate detail of his favourite show, even though Asahi barely had an interest in any of those things. It was all interesting because it was Nishinoya, and for no other reason.

“Hey Noya?” he mumbled over. He avoided his gaze, and mostly sheltered his face by using his mug. 

“Yeah?”

“Thank you, for everything. I know I can be a pain but—”

“Don’t say that! I love…” his voice hitched. “Hanging out with you. H-help you. That too.”

Asahi had a warm expression. He really was a gentle giant. “You’re like my guardian angel.”

Noya gulped. He was lost for words, for once. “A-Asahi-san…” he flushed a bright red, and he felt his fingers go numb. “Thanks.”

“So let’s go over that countermelody you were struggling with.”

His face completely illuminated. “Sure!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can literally write a three hundred paged essay about First Suite in E flat. It’s one of my all time favourite pieces, especially on the bass clarinet.  
> Arabesque as well. I played it during high school for years and years. I haven’t played all the music that I’ve noted and listed in this fic, but I have most definitely played the shit out of these three pieces hahahaha.
> 
> Also, Asanoya is like my favourite ship. I said it. Sorry that it's such a slow burn.


	22. Summer Night On The River

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a small, fluffy filler with some Asanoya and Daisuga

_ “I’m sorry! That was me Asahi-san!” _

_ “No, no it’s okay. Let’s just do that part again.” _

Asahi and Nishinoya were practising their part for Arabesque. They had practised alongside each other every day since they received the pieces. At this point, they were each other's most important part of their respective schedules. It felt like they got no work done if they didn't meet up. 

Nishinoya took a long sip of his water. It was boiling hot that day, and the ceiling fan of the music room basically did nothing but spin the hot air around. 

“M 30 is hard,” Asahi stared at his piece, before grabbing a pencil and marking in his mistakes. “Our parts are sort of opposing. Mine’s all upward runs. Yours is downward. Just make sure that we meet on the downbeats.”

“Sounds good Asahi-san!” he screwed on the cap. “I just keep concentrating on the notes and miss the phrases.”

“Okay what about this?” he opened his phone. “I’ll get the metronome out. We should play the phrase slowly and eventually bump it up the more we get used to it.”

Nishinoya gave a confident nod. So they started incredibly slow. Almost half the speed. It allowed them to think about every note on the sheet music before they played it. So they could nail all the runs, their tone colour and hit every note. 

“That was a lot better.”

He bumped up the beats per minute and it was noticeably faster. But because they played it perfectly before, it felt like a game. They played the phrase just as well. They were finally getting the hang of it.

“Great. Even faster.”

And they did it again. Faster. It was a little harder this time, but still doable.

“Okay. Let’s do it at the actual speed then.”

They played. Their phrases ran a little smoother this time. Like muscle memory had just kicked in. Same as their embouchure. It tightened and loosened with each note, letting them stay on key. 

“Yes! We did it!” Nishinoya jumped, throwing his arms in joy. He accidentally bumped over his water bottle. “Oh oops.”

He leaned down and reached over to it. But he didn’t realise that Asahi was going after it too. As Noya touched the neck of the bottle, Asahi had gently placed his hand on top. 

“Oh sorry,” Noya glanced up, and found Asahi’s face right in front of his. So close that he could feel him breathe. 

Asahi always looked softer up close. A lot of people were taken aback by how intimidating he looked. He was tall, his hair was long and wild, and he was pretty well built. But his face looked so kind. He had smile lines, faint dimples and eyes that melted your heart when you looked at them for too long. Asahi was gentle. 

And he couldn’t help but to close his eyes. It was the heat of the moment. He felt his body lean in; it was moving on its own. He peaked his eyes a little, and found Asahi doing the same. He was clearly nervous though—with his lips pursed just a bit too much, and his eyes forcefully shut. And it just made Noya smile, and continue to lean in.  _ Maybe this was it. Them. Together. _

_ “You’re time’s up!!! Get out of the room!!!” _

Sugawara kicked open the door and yelled. They leapt apart in a heartbeat.

“What are you two doing?” he smirked and gave a quiet chuckle. “Did I interrupt something?”

“Suga-san!” the second year jumped to his feet, flopping over too far as he bowed. “I-I should get going.”

He hastily grabbed his things and swung it over his shoulder. As he ran out, Suga slapped him on the back. It was like a “good job”. Though the third year didn't see it, Nishinoya shot him a grin; an expression of "thanks". 

It left Asahi in flustered shambles. He shivered, then grabbed his flute, acting as if he had been practicing that whole time. His face was completely pale. He was almost lifeless. He wished that he was lifeless in that moment. _I need Jesus. I need Jesus. I need—_

“I didn’t know you got yourself a boyfriend,” Suga laughed, leaning against the door frame. 

“I-It’s not like that!” he stammered. “He just...dropped something and we both picked it up and—”

“Sure, sure. That's why you were both closing your eyes,”

"I..."

Suga began to calmly unpack his things. Asahi still felt the burn of embarrassment on every inch of his body. And Suga’s nonchalant nature made it all worse.

“So? What’ve you been doing?” he asked.

“Huh? Oh,” Asahi flickered through his stuff. “I was practicing Arabesque.”

“Ahh, the one that opens with your solo,” he looked over his shoulder. “It’s nice, isn’t it?”

“Aha...yeah. I guess. I’m a little worried...I guess. I don’t want to fail it and let everyone down,”

Suga eyed him sternly. “Don’t be negative.”

“I’m not trying to be!” he scratched the back of his neck. “It’s my last year and I can’t waste this opportunity. I want to get to Nationals or—”

Suga suddenly punched his waist. Really, _really_ hard.

Asahi collapsed over and cowered, “What the heck?”

“No negative goatee,” he grumbled. “You won’t let anyone down. Stop saying that, or else it’ll come true.”

“B-But, it doesn’t matter how much I practice! If I fail on stage, that’s it. It’s a fail,”

“Well think about it like this,” Suga helped him up. His change from violence to actual care gave Asahi whiplash. “If you get yourself to 50%, on a bad day, you might drop to 30%, which is a fail. But if you practice until you’re 80%, maybe your bad day is a 60%, which is good. And if you practice so you’re 120%, on a bad day, you’ll be 100%. Which is perfect. Basically, if you practice correctly and diligently, even if you're having a bad day, you’ll ace it.”

Asahi pondered for a moment. His words echoed inside of him. Then he smiled. “Thanks Suga.”

The clarinetist grinned with confidence. “I have faith in you.”

_ “Suga!” _

Daichi entered the room, sweat dripping down his face. “Oh, hey Asahi.”

He had his cello case strapped to his back. His face was beat red, as if he had run a marathon. In actuality, he had rushed to meet with Suga, straight after tutes, and made sure to grab a drink for the two of them. 

“Hey,” Asahi smiled. “Welp, I should get going,” he twisted his instrument apart. “I’ve been in here for hours.”

“Asahi’s gotta boyfriend,” Suga playfully jabbed. 

Daichi instantly brightened, “Oh congrats! Who?”

Asahi nervously chuckled, not knowing what to say. “Ummm…” he cleared his throat, glancing over to Suga. He wanted to glare at him for forcing him into this, but couldn’t even knit his brows together. Because at the end of the day, Suga could've probably beat him up. Or worse, kick him out of the orchestra. So he could only squeak out a plead, “...Suga…”

“What?” Daichi’s face dropped. Asahi swore that the ground shook as Daichi uttered. D ark clouds gathered above them. They could hear thunderstorms. “You’re dating—?”

“No! No! That’s not what I meant,” Asahi rushed. Daichi lowered his fist and the sky cleared up again. “I would never. I could never. I mean, he’s great but, we’re just friends and—”

The band captain bursted out into a forceful fit of laughter. It was honestly painful to hear. It was so fake. “Yeah. Just a misunderstanding. Good.”

Asahi shuffled out of the room, still feeling Daichi stare down at him until he left the building. That’s when he finally sighed and closed the door.

“You wouldn’t...actually, right?” he asked over.

The clarinetist pulled a face. “Are you jealous?”

He rolled his eyes and chuckled. “What do you think?”

✦✦✦

Daichi and Suga had spent almost all day in the music room. The sun was already setting by the time Suga parted his instrument from his lips.

“Your fingers are so red,” Daichi commented. “Let me bandage them up for you.”

“I can do it myself,” he dismissed, packing his clarinet away.

“Come on, let me do it.”

He took his frail hands into his own, and swiftly wrapped his thumb in bandages. They were both used to it. Suga’s hands were always falling apart during the holidays because he overworked himself. 

“I’m glad I got to practice First Suite today. I think it’s the best piece in our repertoire,” Sugawara said. 

Daichi hummed. “All the pieces are pretty good though. I think it’s a nice range,” his hands lingered on his for a tad longer. “Oh crap. I forgot to copy those pieces for the cellos. I’ve gotta do that before we go back.”

“Don’t stress over it. You’ve got tomorrow too,” Suga said positively.

“But tomorrow I’m working with Yamaguchi because he’s struggling with Candide,” he explained. “And the day after that, we’ve got jazz band and I’m still rough on the drums, so I’ve gotta practice for that.”

“Try not to overwork Daichi,”

He sighed. “We’re third years though. This is our last chance to make things right. I want everything to be perfect; leave a legacy, you know?”

Sugawara smiled. “You _will_ leave a legacy. No matter what.”

“You will too,” he placed a hand onto his shoulder. “But the stress thing goes out to you too. I’ve seen all those markings on your sheet music. Half of them don’t even apply to you. It’s for all the winds.”

“Well, these pieces are wind heavy,” he said. “Karasuno is always really wind heavy and it can be really hard for first years to handle. Even some of the second years are struggling. They can go a bit overboard sometimes.”

Daichi groaned. “Argh, tell me about it. Remember when we had to clean the hall because Tanaka and Nishinoya shook up a whole case of sodas in one go and they all exploded?”

He bursted out into laughter. “Poor Ennoshita blamed himself for weeks because he was sick that day.”

“He’ll make a good captain one day,” he commented. “Crazy...that we’re gonna leave. That we’re third years, and eventually, we’re going to leave this all behind. And Karasuno’s just gonna function without us, you know. It just keeps going.”

“Please don’t be sentimental,”

Daichi grinned. “It’s just strange to think about it. I wonder what Karasuno’s gonna be like when we leave.”

“Not as good,” he joked. They both laughed. “It’ll survive. They’re all talented musicians, and if they have time to gel, they’ll be unstoppable. Especially those first years.”

“And what are we gonna be like? When we leave?” 

His question made Suga sit back on his heels. He thought about it for a moment, but just ended up shrugging. “Who knows?”

It was a haunting feeling. That everything they’ve known would be swept away from them when the time came for it. And they couldn’t stop it from happening. It was inevitable. Their lives were going to change forever. So they might as well go out with a bang. Like taking the team to nationals. That’s all they wanted to do. 

“Well, I think I’m gonna go. I actually want to choose what I have for dinner tonight instead of getting leftovers,” Sugawara said, gathering his things. 

“I’ll come a bit later. Save some katsu for me,” Daichi called over.

Sugawara gave one last look. “But seriously Daichi, don’t stress too much."

"I know, I know,"

"I don’t want a bold husband.”

“Bold?” Daichi pinched his hair. “Wait. _Husband_?!”

Sugawara left the room, with a small grin on his lips. Daichi suddenly jumped the highest he could, giving into a satisfying fist pump for himself. 


	23. I LOVE...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some Kagehina hurt/comfort that has gay undertones but it's a still a slow burn. 
> 
> Also the first chapter that's named after a pop song instead of a classical piece.

It had been a week since their fight. Both Kageyama and Hinata hadn’t fully addressed it yet though. The latter couldn’t exactly keep sleeping on the ground of the 2nd year dormitory, so he had to eventually go back to sleep in his own room despite Kageyama being there. He imagined it to be awkward, but it was more tense than anything.

The first time they ran into each other was when they tried to enter their shared room. Hinata had luckily avoided Kageyama while down at the practice rooms, but they ended up entering their shared space at the same time. He gulped. Neither knew what to do. So they just refused to talk. They silently entered, went straight to their bed, and pretended that they hadn’t seen each other. And by the time Hinata woke up the next morning, Kageyama was gone.

It had become a disjointed pattern for them—Hinata would always leave a bit after Kageyama so they’d never meet at the practice room, or the cafeteria, or the shower rooms, and by the time he got back, Kageyama would already be asleep (he wasn't really asleep but just pretended to be so he didn't have to see Hinata's face). 

Despite their silence only lasting a week, it felt like a lifetime. It was more gruelling because they were roommates, and they used to do everything together, but now they were left to actively avoid each other. It felt foreign. Like Hinata had woken up in an alternate universe. Thoughts of their previous routine lingered on his mind. Kageyama used to wake up before Hinata, so he'd always kick him until he woke up. They'd hurry to get dressed and head over to class together. They took neighbouring desks too. On afternoons where they had orchestra, they'd go together with their respective instruments, gushing about a new piece they found the week prior, and promise each other that they'd play it together eventually. Hinata hated that they never got to. The boys made sure to get dinner together (and race each other on who could eat the quickest). They'd go to the shower rooms together. By the time they fell asleep, Hinata would always turn off the light, and exchange a growingly warm "good night" as the days went by. 

It wasn't the same without all of that. This wasn't his life. It didn't feel like it. 

He had a while to think about everything. About Kageyama and everything he felt. It had to be Oikawa. Kageyama hadn’t been the same since their encounter. But Hinata had no idea who he was. He knew that he was the _King of Music_ ; he was overly confident; and he was one hell of a musician. One of the best that Hinata had ever heard. But still, he didn’t expect him to have such an effect on Kageyama. They presumably knew each other beforehand; probably through middle school. Maybe something happened back then? Maybe he bullied him? Maybe Kageyama felt insecure around him? Hinata had no idea. And he hadn't even thought about something like this before in his life, but he felt entitled to because...it was Kageyama. There was nothing else to it. 

He eventually found himself knocking on another first year’s room. Yamaguchi opened the door.

“Hinata?” he piped out with a smile. “Hey. What’s up?”

“Is Tsukishima here?” Hinata asked. 

The blonde stuck his head out from where he sat. Then adjusted his glasses. “No. He’s not here.”

“I can see you!” he shouted. Yamaguchi let him in. “I wanted to ask you an important question."

"No," Tsukishima immediately cut him off.

"Tsukki," when Yamaguchi called his name so tenderly, he caved in.

"Argh, what is it shrimp?"

"Do you know anything about Oikawa?”

“That guy from Seijou?” Tsukishima lowered his headphones. “No."

“Come on Tsukki,” Yamaguchi urged.

His roommate rolled his eyes (though he was about to melt). “Fine. They went to the same middle school. I saw them perform together years ago. Oikawa's also basically famous.”

“Like, famous famous?!” he yelped.

“I guess. He's been on magazine covers and news interviews," 

Hinata sighed, still unable to piece things together. He wanted to ask him about it, but he didn’t want to get in another fight. It just wasn’t worth it. “I still don’t get why he’s upset.”

Tsukishima brightened. “That blueberry’s upset?” Hinata nodded. “How pathetic.”

“And I think it has something to do with Oikawa,” his feet dragged behind him as he walked to the door. He wasn’t any closer to figuring it out. “Thanks anyway.”

“Maybe he’s tired of being in his shadow,” Yamaguchi said. “I mean, I know I’m pretty tired of it myself.”

He laughed it off, opening the door for Hinata. The saxophonist was thankful for how inviting he was. 

“Maybe!” Hinata acknowledged. “Thanks.”

And with that, the shortest boy rushed out of the room, returning to his own dorm. In the meantime, Tsukishima sighed, getting up from his bed to pat him on the back. Yamaguchi yelped. 

“You’re not in my shadow,” he said, running his hand down Yamaguchi’s shoulder.

He froze, intricately paying attention to every touch. The way it felt against his shoulder blades. “I-I didn't mean it like—”

"Yes you did. And you're wrong."

His words were firm and confident. Though it had that tangy coldness that his words tended to have, Yamaguchi still graciously took it. 

"Thanks Tsukki!"

✦✦✦

Hinata kicked open the door to his room. Kageyama was inside, quickly gathering his things for the shower. This was the first time he had properly seen him. Not the back of his head, or the outline of his body in his bed. It was Kageyama’s face. It was comforting to see him again.

“Kageyama,” he uttered. The taller boy stared at him with just as much hesitation. Like he wanted to see him too, but he was trying to hold back. “You’re an amazing player.”

“What?”

They were a bit rusty. It's something they expected, but it was somehow worse than they thought it'd be.

“I know, idiot,” Kageyama dismissed him, continuing to gather his things.

“But like, you stand out! You’re really good and you light up when you’re on stage!” Hinata expressed, his hands tightly knotted into fists. He was trying to make everything as comprehensive as possible for him. Really trying. 

“What are you trying to say?”

“I’m trying to say…” Hinata gulped. He couldn't take it. “That you’ve been different since the concert. You never want to talk about it but if you don’t talk about it, nothing’s gonna happen!” he brought his hand to his chest. "I'm here for you. And I’ll do whatever it takes.”

Hinata scrunched his face intensely, like he was trying his hardest to convey what he was feeling to Kageyama. To translate that burning, tingling feeling inside of him. The bassist cursed under his breath.

He admittedly hated the last week. His thoughts were chewing him from the inside out. It left him hollow. It hadn't been the same since they stopped talking. Kageyama would never admit it, but he sort of needed him.

“It’s because,” he trashed his things onto his bed. He made sure to keep his stance wide to he didn't fall over. With all the blood rushing to his head, he couldn't help but to feel unbalanced. “Oikawa-san knows.”

“Knows what?”

“That I struggle,”

Hinata blinked. It felt anticlimactic— _this was his problem all along?_ “We all know.”

“But I mean,” he was still distant. “He knows that I’m hard to work with; that I’m selfish…” he cleared his throat. “He’s a constant reminder that…you know.”

“I don’t know."

Kageyama was clearly uncomfortable. There was a part of him that was dying to say everything to lift the tension from his shoulders. But there was another part of him that didn’t want to say anything, because saying something out loud would mean that it’s true. 

“Everyone’s gonna leave. If we lose, it’ll be my fault,” he croaked out. 

“But we’re an orchestra. We’re fighting the same battle alongside each other,” even with Hinata’s strong words, Kageyama just exhaled. He was somehow even more distant than before. “I’m right next to you.”

“God, you idiot. I don’t just mean in music,” he spat. “Everyone’s gonna leave. Everyone. Because everyone hates me.”

"No we—"

"You don't get what it's like!" he yelled. Hinata stood back. "I spent last graduation...alone. Everyone went off to celebrate together, and they went to restaurants and threw parties. I wasn't," his eyes fogged. "I wasn't invited to a single one. I spent graduation in my room, with my double bass, trying to ignore my mum because she was calling me for dinner," Hinata had never considered Kageyama to be that lonely. He hadn't even known about this before. Or anyone who went through something like that. "And I just felt so angry! Like _come on_! What was I doing for the last three years?! Argh," he punched his arms down. "I was just so infuriated that no one wanted to see me that I just..."

Hinata parted his lips, "Cried?"

"...yeah," he reluctantly mumbled. He imagined himself at that moment. Little Kageyama, 12 years old. His knees pressed up to his chest as he curled up and cried, knowing that if he disappeared, no one would care. Maybe people would be happy instead. "I thought this was gonna be all new. I knew that no one attended Karasuno but I just...ended up doing the same thing. Argh," he groaned, winding himself up again. "But I don't know how to break out of it! Why am I so angry all the time?! Why can't I stop feeling so—I don't know— _angry_?! Mad at the world? Mad at myself? I hate myself! And God it fucking _sucks_!"

He could feel tears at the back of his throat. He didn't want to do this. He wanted to shove Hinata out of the room and scream until his lungs gave out. He was about to—his hands closed into fists, preparing to bring them up. But stopped when he saw Hinata in front of him.

His eyes glistened, the way it did when he was entranced with music. Except this time, it was entirely for Kageyama.

_**"I like you."** _

Kageyama widened his eyes and took a sharp breath. Hinata was fairly close to him now, as if he was trying to prove a point.

"I know that probably means nothing, but I think you're actually pretty cool," Hinata said, rubbing his upper arm. “You can be a little annoying, and you listen to your music too loudly. Oh, and you yell at me for not hanging out the laundry even though I’m fine with having wet clothes. And you yell at me when I eat the—”

“Okay Jesus, I get it,”

“But you’re a great player! And you tell me off, and it makes me a better player,” he complimented proudly. “You’ve been really nice to me lately though. You save me rice at the cafeteria. You open the door for me sometimes. You help me fold my clothes. I like your jokes too. And you always help me work harder at everything. So thank you."

Kageyama's lower lip quivered. He felt the urge to retreat to an insult, but he stopped himself. 

“It’s because...I care about…” Hinata knew what he’d say next, but he was still hanging onto every word. So he reluctantly caved into a small, “...you.”

“We are friends after all, and friends are nice to each other, and tell each other everything,” Hinata placed a hand onto his shoulder. Kageyama found himself unable to move. “I like nice Kageyama. I wish he was around all the time. I don’t like upset Kageyama. He’s sulky, and more angry and snores louder.”

Kageyama flushed a bright red. “I do?”

Hinata laughed. “Yeah.”

“W-Well you snore every night so,” he pushed angrily. A small fire started within him. Not a burning pain, but something that was just warm.

“No I don’t,” Hinata puffed out his cheeks and mumbled. It was playful and animated. 

“Yes you do! You snore so loudly it makes the ground shake,”

“Woah I’m that powerful?”

“It’s not a good thing!”

When Hinata smiled at him like that, Kageyama honestly felt like everything within him was melting. Like he’d become a puddle on the ground anytime soon because Hinata burned so brightly. He was the sun. The glowing, brilliant sun. That Kageyama loved being around, even though he didn’t want to admit it. 

“I’m glad you’re back,” Hinata said. His hand was still on his shoulder.

Kageyama nodded. “Me too.”

He placed his hand on top, and firmly squeezed it back. In the heat of the moment, Hinata suddenly lunged at him, his hands wrapping around Kageyama’s waist. He was hugging him with every bit of pain and relief he had felt since the concert. It was itching at him for all that time, and in one swoop, it all exploded. 

The taller boy gasped, nearly stumbling backwards at Hinata’s sudden jump. His immediate reaction was to yell at him— _”Idiot! Get off of me! Dumbass!”_ —but his words never quite made it out. 

Realisation hit Hinata like a train. He let out a small “ah” before he peered up to see Kageyama’s lifeless face. He began panicking, his legs flailing like fish underneath him as he struggled to find a reason as to why he did that.

“I’m—! What? I. I don’t think—” HInata was about to reel his arms back, but Kageyama had surprisingly stopped him. He grabbed onto his wrists to keep them there, then wrapped his arms around Hinata too. He struggled for a moment, not knowing where to actually put his hands. “Are you okay?”

“No…” Kageyama sputtered out. “I-I’ve never really hugged anyone...before,” he coughed awkwardly. He felt like an idiot. 

Hinata didn’t seem to mind though. His face turned from surprise to genuine joy as he held him even tighter. 

“Well I’ll be your first then,” he had a toothy grin.

Kageyama exhaled. “Yeah. You’re my first. I guess.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys,
> 
> Thanks for commenting on one of the earlier chapters when I asked about whether I should write smut or not. I decided that I'd write some scenes that aren't fully smut, but it's still somewhat mature and explicit. Thanks for the feedback!


	24. Rose Room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another jazz band rehearsal at Karasuno. Some new players are added and it causes some tension for others that weren't invited.
> 
> Also the gayness is starting.

It was another afternoon during the holidays. Since most students were gone, the music rooms were always empty, which meant that the jazz band could meet up quite often.

The musicians were unpacking their instruments casually, until Hinata suddenly ran in. With his chest pumped out and his hands on his hips, he yelled.

“Remember how you wanted a pianist and bassist?” Hinata asked grandly. Ennoshita gestured for him to continue. “Well—!”

He swung open the door to reveal Tsukishima and Kageyama standing in the hallway. They had an awkward stance, as if they didn’t know what to do with their hands. They were also as far away from each other as possible. 

“Don’t you think that’s a bit dramatic?” Tsukishima groaned. He was already ready to leave. 

“H-Hello,” Kageyama bowed. He always did in the presence of seniors. He whispered over to Tsukishima. “Dude. Bow.”

“No,”

“Oh! First years,” Suga leaped to his feet. “You guys are gonna be in the band too?”   


“Yeah, well. He plays bass,” Hinata hastily rushed to their side and pointed to Kageyama. “And he plays piano. So I thought they could help.”

“Awesome,” Ennoshita clapped his hands. “Well let’s get started. And Tsukishima, get off your phone.”

The first year had a sullen look on his face as he finished his text and tucked his phone away.  _ This was gonna be a long rehearsal. _

The boys sat in their respective positions, placing their music in front of them. They all inhaled.

_ Sing Sing Sing _ . It definitely felt a lot more full with the bass and piano. It built the backbone needed for the other sections. Because without it, the song sounded empty.

Hinata was getting the hang of the piece too. He, admittedly, played a little messy in the beginning. He had a tendency to just throw himself into the music instead of holding back and approaching it slowly and carefully. Despite that, Hinata was finally coming around. He could hear his improvement amongst the band. Even though they were older than him, and he was definitely lacking in technique compared to them, his focus on musicality and rhythm made him stand out. He had a clear talent for music. Even with his lack of formal practice.

_ “Tsukki!” _

They stopped. Yamaguchi ran straight through the door, his face bright red. He was completely out of breath.

“I-I bought you your lunch. You forgot it on the counter,” he stumbled over to his roommate, a plastic container in his hands. 

“Thanks,” Tsukishima replied. He didn't reveal his smile to the rest of the band. 

That’s when Yamaguchi realised that the whole room was staring at him. He didn’t mean to interrupt anything, but he had a tendency to have tunnel vision when it came to Tsukishima. 

He awkwardly chuckled. “Sorry for interrupting...this.”

“Jazz band. And it’s fine,” Ennoshita dismissed. 

“Oh…” he gazed around the room. They were mostly older students, and yet, Kageyama, Hinata and Tsukishima were all there. First years. It felt like he was the only first year that wasn’t invited. “Sorry.”

Yamaguchi shuffled out of the room, gently closing the door behind him. As he did, he learnt against the door, sighing to himself. He felt a little...strange. Jealous? FOMO? Something like that. 

The cellist cleared his throat, having the urge to dart back to his room. He _did_ need to study for the coming term. But instead, the music room sparked his attention. So he caved into that instead.

✦✦✦

_ TSUKKI: practice finished. _

_ TSUKKI: where r u? _

_ YAMS: I’m next door _

Tsukishima entered the next practice room over to find Yamaguchi struggling on a guitar. It was propped up awkwardly on his leg, and he made his way through chords that forced his fingers into unnatural positions. They were perked up weirdly, like he was figuring out how to strum. 

“Yamaguchi,” Tsukishima's bag slipped down his arm. 

The other first year peered up and instantly smiled. He never got over the excitement of seeing him, even though he saw him more than anyone else. “Tsukki!”

“What are you doing?” 

Yamaguchi adjusted himself, moving away from the stand and his guitar so he could properly face him. “I wanted to pick up guitar.”

“Why? It’s for people who can’t play a real instrument,” 

He laughed. “Yeah but...I mean, jazz sounds cool so...”

Tsukishima caught on. “Oh that. It’s so loud and it hurts my ears. Also it feels like there’s no structure.”

“That’s so cool!” Yamaguchi’s face lit up. Something fun, loose and upbeat was more up Yamaguchi’s alley. He was classically trained, but they were at a point in their lives where they were figuring out what genre they genuinely liked. They were experimenting with new things, and Yamaguchi clearly wanted to try this out. “And you looked so cool playing Tsukki!”

“Shut up,”

“Sorry Tsukki.”

Tsukishima strolled over to the door, grabbing the knob. Yamaguchi’s eyes lingered over him. His knee jerk reaction was to leap to his feet and follow right after him. Like he always did. He could imagine himself doing that—going straight back to their room to study; then they'd get dinner together. But even with the aching in his fingers, he just stayed on his seat. Yamaguchi grinned as his roommate left. 

The guitar wasn't his favourite thing in the world, but he still felt the urge to practice. He was never opposed to practicing his cello either, but this was the first time he overlooked Tsukishima to do so. He never imagined he'd do that. Especially on a brand new instrument he had no history of playing. Heck, he hadn't even thought about playing the guitar until he saw the jazz band. After that, he instantly looked up stage bands online to figure out what instruments he could've played. Guitar seemed to be the only one left. 

Yamaguchi found that guitars in jazz bands mostly played chords. This had pros and cons. Pros, it wasn't too hard once you're in the band. You didn't have phrases or complex runs. And it's a part of the rhythm section so it's pretty repetitive. But cons, Yamaguchi couldn't play chords. He had never played chords. He hadn't even learnt about them properly aside from the basics he needed for orchestra and music exams. 

For now, he stuck to tabs — guitar was a lot more forgiving since it was a pretty recreational instrument — but eventually, he knew he needed to learn these chords properly. Since in jazz band music, they only had the chords written, not the tabs themselves. 

The door suddenly opened again. He stopped. Looking over, he found Tsukishima standing at the door, two bottles of tea in his hands.

Yamaguchi gulped and gasped a big, "You're back!"

“Tck,” Tsukishima lowered one of them in front of Yamaguchi. “It’s nothing,” he then circled around him and slowly approached his roommate. Tsukishima bent down, so close that his chin was virtually resting on his shoulder.“So what are you doing?”

“I’m trying to learn chords, I guess,” he felt more nervous when Tsukishima was right next to him. His fingers became tense. It was like he didn’t want to fail in front of him. “The notes are easy to remember, but the chords feel weird.”

“Yeah, I get that,” he hummed. “Have you figured out minor chords? 7ths?”

“Uh…”

Tsukishima gave a little smile, something that only Yamaguchi was allowed to see. He walked over to the piano, and sat in front of it. He placed his fingers down. 1, 3, 5. “This is a major. Flatten the third and,” 1. 3 flat. 5. “It’s a minor.”

“Ohh,” Yamaguchi copied on his guitar. The sound was thin, like it could break apart in any second. “But why does it say like a big 7 on the page?”

Tsukishima chuckled, taking a long sip of his tea. “We’ll be here for a while.”

✦✦✦

Hinata and Kageyama wandered back to their dorm. The sky was a warm, orangey hue. From afar, they were dark silhouettes that nearly merged into one. Hinata kicked a rock to the beat of ‘Sing Sing Sing’ which faintly echoed in his head. Kageyama matched him, his hands punched into his pockets.

“Band practice was so good today,” Hinata said in pure satisfaction. He stretched out his arms.

“Yeah, it’s nice to do something so fun,” Kageyama replied, a faint smile on his lips. He was at ease now that everything was back to normal.

“I love that “bam bam bam” part! Oh! And that “shwoop shwoop” line in the middle,”

“Use actual words idiot.”

When Hinata was excited like that, he seemed to illuminate. He was practically glowing; radiating positivity as he spun around over-dramatically and gave him the brightest, widest smile. He was the childish, honest and optimistic Hinata that Kageyama had grown to appreciate over the last few months. 

“I want to do it when I grow up,” Hinata said, his eyes gazing afar. It was as if he was looking into the future. Which was limitless. 

Kageyama gulped. Hinata looked...different. Right there and then. His lips were pressed together into a firm grin. His cheeks were soft and relaxed. But his eyes were something entirely different. There was something behind them—a strong sense of passion and love. Like countless possibilities were swelling in his mind and he couldn’t contain it. 

It was the expression of someone who knew what they wanted to do. Maybe not know exactly how they’d get there. But Hinata knew that he was going to become a musician, no matter the cost, so it didn’t matter how. 

He chuckled. “What’s wrong with your face?”

Kageyama brought a hand to his cheek and realised that he was heating up. He was dazed. It was like he was admiring something from a distance, though in that moment, he was only a foot away. Or maybe, like something blooming in his chest which he couldn't simmer down.

From Hinata’s perspective, he just looked weirdly sick. As if he’d been on a bump road and got car sick, but also wanted to stay in the car. Or ate something that was a bit off, but still enjoyed the taste. But the more he thought about it, the more his brain just fuzzed. 

“You look funny,” Hinata commented.

The bassist gritted his teeth. “Shut up idiot!”

Kageyama suddenly kicked the rock that Hinata was playing with. 

“Hey!”

“You deserve it,"

"What did I do?" he innocently looked up at him. 

_God, if only you knew_. "Nothing. Everything. Argh, shut up."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late-ish uploads. I'll upload once a week from now on (school's starting again), but I have a couple of chapters set up that I just need to edit then post. I'm currently on chapter 31. 
> 
> Also a heads up, it gets gayer from here. If anyone guesses the first couple from Karasuno to have a kiss scene, you'll get my respect (lol idk what other prizes I could give out).


	25. Serenade of the Strings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kagehina bonding moment; a little insight into Daisuga domestic life; and Tsukiyama continues to practice together.
> 
> Also we'll be introduced to another school soon :)

_ Aone Takanobu: Hello Hinata. You may not know me, but I heard you play at the concert with Karasuno. You were very good. _

Hinata received a random text during the holidays. It was around the time Kageyama had thrown his scrunched up practice test at the wall in defeat (which came flying back at his face). The baritone sax laughed.

"Shut up," Kageyama grumbled into his desk. 

_ Hinata Shouyou: HEY _

_ Hinata Shouyou: are you that super tall guy from Date Tech? _

_ Aone Takanobu: yes I am. Sorry to surprise you. _

Hinata gave a loud “Woah!” as he swung himself around on his desk chair. 

Kageyama shouted. “Shut up. I’m trying to study.”

“I got a text from a guy in Date Tech,”

“What?” Kageyama rushed over and looked over his shoulder. “How? Why? What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything!” he huffed. 

_ Hinata Shouyou: no it’s super cool! _

_ Hinata Shouyou: I heard you before we went on _

_ Hinata Shouyou: You’re really good! _

_ Hinata Shouyou: you guys were all like “bruuum bruuum bruuum” and it was super loud and strong! _

_ Hinata Shouyou: like a wall _

Kageyama snorted. "Why would you text that you idiot?"

"Because that's how I feel!"  


"You could use actual words."

Hinata pouted.

_ Aone Takanobu: that’s what we were trying to achieve. _

_ Aone Takanobu: Karasuno also sounded amazing. I thought you were very good. _

Hinata brightened.

_ Hinata Shouyou: THANKS _

_ Aone Takanobu: I’ve never seen someone of your stature play such a big instrument. _

Kageyama bursted out into laughter, slapping Hinata on the back. The other boy scrunched his face. 

_ Aone Takanobu: I was very impressed. I hope to see you play again at the Spring Tournament. _

_ Hinata Shouyou: you too!!! _

_ Aone Takanobu: I’m very surprised that you play the same instrument as Ushijima Wakatoshi. I’m very interested to see how different you two sound on the day. _

Just by seeing the name, Kageyama shivered. His face turned blue, and he inched away. Hinata peered over at him in confusion.

“Who’s he?” he asked.

Kageyama yelled, “How the hell do you not know him?” it was the loudest he’d yelled at him (which was honestly hard to believe). “He’s the best musician in Miyagi! He’s consecutively won the Woodwind Gala since he was 11 for God's sake! And he’s flown out to Europe to play with the best conductors!”

“EUROPE?!”

Kageyama violently nodded. “Plus he’s the youngest ever musician to be chosen for the Japan Philharmonic Orchestra.”

“Woah,” Hinata slumped back in his chair. A flood of imagery swelled in his head. _He must be an absolute beast_. _Someone tall. Wide shoulders. Solid core_. “The best musician...is a baritone sax player?”

“That’s not the point.”

_ Hinata Shouyou: I’m excited too! This is my first year, so I’ve never been to the spring festival _

_ Aone Takanobu: I will see you then. Please, take care. _

_ Ushijima.  _ The name burned at the back of Hinata’s head. He couldn’t help but to imagine what he was like. He must’ve had a brilliant, thick tone and could sustain the longest, deepest notes. He couldn't wait to hear him. How he played. Whether he was technical. Whether he was melodic. Whether he was rhythmic. The possibilities were endless. And Hinata wanted to know the answer. _Now_.

“I wanna see him perform!” Hinata proclaimed. 

Kageyama was still a little shaken up.  “They have a concert during Term 2— _no wait—_ we should watch some videos online. Right now."

Hinata gasped. “Kageyama! We need to go to that concert."

“What?”

“We need to go to that concert!” he repeated.

"We wouldn't be allowed to,"

“Why not?”

“It’s at night,” his face was deadpanned, but he was internally freaking out. He imagined how scary Daichi would look if he had caught them. And how disappointed Suga would look. And God, they'd get in so much trouble by Ukai Sensei. Kageyama shivered at the thought of it. 

“Come on,” he pleaded. “Kageyama!”

“Don’t give me that face."

But Hinata kept pleading. With those big, eyes and trembling lips. The taller boy tried to look away, feeling his insides turn to mush the longer he stared. He really was becoming his weakness.

“Fine,” he snapped. “But if we get in trouble, it’s your fault.”

The saxophonist leaped up, instantly wrapping his arms around the other boy. In a fit of absolute joy, Hinata was hugging his shoulders, unable to let go.

Kageyama groaned. "Just because we've hugged once, doesn't mean this is okay."

"Oh, uhh..." he awkwardly shifted off of him. "Sorry."

The brunette coughed. He honestly didn't mean to sound as cold as he did. But he wasn't going to take back his words either. "Yeah...idiot."

✦✦✦

Daichi was sitting at his desk, attempting to finish his notes for the semester. He took the free time in the holidays to stay back at his dorm and study properly. The year wasn’t close to finishing, but it was slowly but surely nearing the half-yearlies, which were still important for their university application. Plus, being in the college preparatory class meant that he was held to a higher standard.

Wiping a sweat, he reached over to his desktop fan and turned it up. It was particularly hot that day. Summer holidays were always excruciating in terms of heat. Daichi and Suga grew used to that, since they stayed at school instead of going back to their family every year. At that point, their dorm was their little home. With their own kitchenette, bathroom and their shared bedroom. That was all he needed.

Daichi’s phone buzzed. It was the perfect opportunity for him to take a break.

**_Ukai Keishin_ **

_ Nekoma High Orchestra _

He opened up the email and quickly scanned through the contents. Daichi brightened.

“Hey Suga,” he called. “A school from Tokyo’s coming over to Karasuno for a mini concert,” his roomate didn’t reply. “Suga?”

Daichi looked over and found Sugawara soundly sleeping on top of his bed. He smiled to himself. When Daichi pulled away from the desk, he realised that the whole surface was covered in practice papers and loose notes that he needed to pack up. But looking at them made him dread cleaning altogether. 

He sat beside Suga’s bed, with one hand on his knee and the other on the edge of the frame. The bed was fairly close to the ground, which levelled Suga’s and his face. 

Daichi knew his face well. Of course he did, he’d known him for years. But he never got tired of making out his features. Suga’s pursed lips (they were always partially parted when he slept). The plumpness of his cheeks. The freckle under his eye. And the longer Daichi gazed, the more features he noticed on him. The softness, the curves. He loved it all. He never got tired of it. 

No matter how much they grew up, Suga was still the same Suga that Daichi met on the very first day. When they were introduced as roommates. Though his 15 year old self would never know that the boy who stood at the centre of their dorm, practicing his clarinet on the very first day, would be the one he fell for. After all these years. 

Even though they agreed that they’d be together if Karasuno made it to Nationals, Daichi dreaded the Spring Festival. There was a possibility that they wouldn’t make it. Well, there was a pretty big possibility they wouldn’t. Miyagi only had one spot available for Nationals, and that was constantly hogged by Shiratorizawa. And even in the slim chance that—possibly maybe—Tanaka and Nishinoya blew Shiratorizawa up, Seijou would take it in a heartbeat (and they probably had better security there so Karasuno couldn’t exactly break in). So really, they had a very slim chance of qualifying for Nationals. 

Daichi couldn’t imagine what it’d be like if they lost. Everyone's faces. The crying. The frustration. Especially for the third years. It was their last year together, and their last year to make it right. It felt like there was all this build up, and for it to just...fail...well, Daichi couldn't bare to think about it. 

But above all; he promised Suga. He promised himself. That it’d all fall into place this year. It had to. They worked so hard. 

Staring down at his hands, he glided his fingers over all the marks. His fingertips and palms were scarred from all the extra practises he did it the holidays. He needed the band to be perfect, but that started with him mastering his part too. He needed to set an example. It’d be stupid if he couldn’t get his own part down, especially as band captain. 

“Daichi?” Suga muttered. His eyes were still half closed. He adjusted himself slightly on the bed so he could properly face him. 

“Oh, you're awake,” Daichi brought a hand to Suga’s cheek, lightly running his thumb over. “How’d you sleep?”

“I'm good but...are...” he yawned. “Are you okay?”

Daichi pulled a partially fake but mostly sincere smile. “Yeah of course.”

“You’re doing that ‘ _ I need to make sure that everything is right because the team relies me’  _ sort of expression,” 

The cellist sighed. “You know me too well.”

“Of course I do,” he placed his hand on top of Daichi’s, which still cupped his face. “Don’t stress about the orchestra. It’s too early. Plus, I’m sure Karasuno will pull it together.”

“What if we don’t?” Daichi tended to be the strong one. He was a rock, with strict words and optimism for everyone. But he revealed a hint of softness when he was with Suga. 

“Aw, do you want to date me that badly?” the clarinetist joked, running Daichi’s hand down the curve of his cheek. 

The other band captain pressed his lips together and glanced away. “G-Going to Nationals, in general, would be pretty cool though. But I mean,” he sheepishly squirmed. “It would be nice.”

Suga chuckled, then leaned over the bed, his lips lightly brushing the tip of Daichi’s nose. It was a peck. But it sent jittery sparks all around his body. Daichi was frozen in place. Every body part was cement. 

The clarinetist snickered, clearly amused, and kicked his legs over the bed. “I’m gonna make some tea. Do you want some?”

“Y-Y-Ye—”

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

✦✦✦

Yamaguchi spent most afternoons in the music room at that point in the holidays. Sometimes during the day too, although he tried to take that time to study. And that day was no different. It was 4PM, and Yamaguchi was strumming his guitar. It still felt foreign in his hands, but his fingers were slowly adjusting to it. 

“You’re flat,” Tsukishima commented. He was sitting at the piano, his hands on top of the keys. Surprisingly, he tagged along to every practice session Yamaguchi locked in. He’d start every morning by groaning and cursing under his breath. But he never failed to follow him, and always helped by playing along on the piano. 

“Thanks,” he adjusted. “Hey Tsukki?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you think they’ll let me in? You know, into jazz band?”

Yamaguchi continued to strum on the guitar. He ran all the chord theory Tsukishima had taught him through his head. It felt strange that he was learning something seemingly so important, like chord theory, this late into his music career.  _ But better late than never.  _

“Who cares?”

“I do!” Yamaguchi perked up, though his confidence diminished within a second. “I know it’s stupid but, I really want to do it.”

“Then you’ll be fine” Tsukishima dismissed. “You’re overthinking it.”

“You’re right Tsukki. Thanks."

Yamaguchi was sure that he knew Tsukishima. He spent their whole friendship admiring him, but he was acting differently. He was...nicer? In some ways. He was taking the time to teach Yamaguchi how to play, which was out of character for the usually stoic and cold Tsukishima. He never stayed overtime, he never practised, or even bothered to look over sheet music. Instead, he chose to focus on studies, since he excelled at that a lot more. Though according to Yamaguchi, he was amazing at everything. 

The Tsukishima that couldn’t even be bothered to try, was now trying to help Yamaguchi. And even as his best friend, he felt out of place.

“Hey Tsukki?” he asked over. Tsukishima viewed him from his piano stool. “You don’t need to be here if you don’t want to. I-I know it’s a waste of time, and you could be studying instead.”

The violinist adjusted his glasses. “I know that idiot.”

He stammered. “Sorry Tsukki! I—”

“I’m choosing to be here. It’s fine.”

His words were still cold, like they tended to be, but there was a slight tint of kindness to it, and Yamaguchi could identify it right away. His lips were softly curled, and his voice was honeyed. He was calm, rather than icy.

Yamaguchi brightened. "Thanks Tsukki!"


	26. Yuugure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Decided to write a little fluffy chapter where the musicians go off and have some fun for once.

“Great rehearsal guys,” Ennoshita puffed, reaching over to his drink bottle. “Let’s call it a day.”

Their stage band was slowly coming together. It was a lot looser and freer than orchestra, with musicians allowed to bring in any piece for them to jam. They’d critique each other lightly, but none of them would take it too seriously. It was mostly for a wind down since orchestra and studies were quite overwhelming at times.

“We should go to the summer festival to celebrate,” Suga suggested, fanning his face. 

“A festival?!” Hinata gasped.

“The Tohoku Kizuna Festival. We look forward to it every year. It’s always nice to wind down with yukatas and games,” Daichi informed. “As long as Nishinoya doesn’t burn it down again.”

“It was one time!” he whined.

“That’s why you don’t light fireworks right next to a stand,” Asahi gave a little laugh, but he was flooded with horrific flashbacks. He had nightmares for months. 

Hinata looked over to his roommate, his lips pressed together like he was trying to contain with excitement. “We need to go!”

Kageyama rolled his eyes, though he was looking forward to it. “Fine idiot. We’ll go.”

At the same time, Tsukishima gave a quick text over to Yamaguchi. He was completely sure that Yamaguchi would agree, ~~but he just needed any excuse to text him.~~

They all mutually agreed that it was nice to take some time off. It was something fresh and new to do, plus summer festivals were always fun. Takoyaki, goldfish scooping, chocolate bananas, and of course fireworks. Plus, it was nice to bond over something that wasn’t school related. Or music related.

“Cool. We’ll meet at the school gates at 5, and we’ll all walkover together,” Daichi suggested. “Got that?”

“Yes!”

✦✦✦

The festival was completely decked out. Lanterns were hanging over them. There were rows stands on either side of them, selling a variety of foods; nick nacks; and traditional games. It felt like the night was alive. 

“We need to get that Kageyama! Can we get that?” Hinata tugged Kageyama's navy sleeve.

“Fine, just stop pulling,” he grumbled, adjusting his yukata.

“Be careful you two,” Sugawara warned.

“We will!”

The two boys lined up by a couple of stands. Food stands, to just kick off the night. 

“I haven’t been to these since I was a kid! I love festivals,” Hinata said. His eyes wandered around the stores. It was like he was still a kid, because he couldn’t contain his excitement. He wanted to try every food, attempt every game, and be the closest to the fireworks when they go off. And God, Kageyama didn’t want to tag along to everything. 

Hinata bought himself a chocolate banana. One with blue sprinkles. On the other hand, Kageyama got yakisoba from the neighbouring stand. 

“That looks good Kageyama,” Hinata leaned over.

Kageyama cringed, “You’re not gonna get any.”

“Why not?” he pouted.

“Because it’s mine,”

“Please,”

“No,”

“Please,”

“No idiot,”

“Kageyama,”

The taller boy groaned, rolling his eyes, then caved in. “Fine but—”

Hinata instantly leaped in and took a mouthful. Kageyama winced and snatched it back.

“Idiot. Don’t take that much,”

“You want some of mine?” he asked. Kageyama would’ve instantly yelled a no in anger, but Hinata’s big eyes softened him a little. 

He exhaled and muttered a small. “...fine.”

Hinata held it up so Kageyama could take a small bite from the top. Despite the saxophonist’s usually straight forward (and dense) nature, his face blushed a little when Kageyama did so. It was made even worse by Kageyama’s stare. He didn’t look away as he flicked away his hair, leaned in, and took a little nibble. 

He shivered, and recoiled the banana to his chest. He gnawed at it to hide his face.

“Your face looks stupid,” Kageyama had a slight blush speckled across his face. He chewed a mouthful of yakisoba like a dorky kid.

_ Oh no. That was an indirect kiss— _ Hinata thought— _a kiss? Kageyama. Hinata. Kiss?_

“Oh how cute,” Tsukishima cynically snickered from afar. Kageyama shuddered. 

“Oh like you can talk,” he growled back, pointing towards Yamaguchi, who was concealing chuckles behind his sleeve. 

“At least we don’t share one brain cell,” he mocked back. 

“Well sharing is caring!” Hinata nudged forward, standing in front of Kageyama like a protective wall. A very short wall.

“That’s not really helping,” his roommate mumbled. 

“Oh oops,”

Kageyama used his free hand to grab Hinata by the shoulder. “W-Well mine’s cute.”

Hinata’s already red face somehow burned even more. He felt like he was going to pass out any second now. “Wha—?”

“You wish,” Tsukishima quipped. “Mine’s a lot cuter.”

He reeled Yamaguchi in by the waist, facing Kageyama with a churlish smirk. 

Yamaguchi stammered, “Y-You think I’m—?” he was almost blinded with shock.

Tsukishima’s head erupted with sudden realisation, followed by a rush of embarrassment. “Wait I—”

In the meantime, the third years were watching from afar with mild amusement. A flustered Hinata. A distressed Kageyama. A panicking Yamaguchi. And a mortified Tsukishima. 

“What’s happening over there?” Asahi asked.

“I think they just realised they’re in love with each other,” Daichi answered. 

“It took them that long?” Suga questioned. The other two nodded. “Wow. That’s a bit late.”

✦✦✦

“Tanaka! Let’s get these awesome masks!” Nishinoya enthused. 

“Nah I wanna get that blue one with the long nose. I saw it somewhere,” he replied, shuffling through the masks.

The boys were at a stand, looking through the assortment of masks at the festival. By then, the group had dispersed into smaller groups, but they promised that they'd meet each other at 8, when the fireworks would go off. Until then, they were free to do whatever. 

And for Asahi, it meant babysitting the 2nd years. 

“I’ll get you one Asahi-san,” Nishinoya grabbed the top two in the pile.

“No, no it’s okay,” he chuckled. “I don’t want to scare all the kids...again.”

“Oh yeah, you made all those kids cry last year,” Tanaka reminisced. 

When the kids saw a tall and stocky body with a bright red, demon mask, most of them bursted out into tears. Kids kicked and screamed, and hid behind their parents. Even when Asahi took it off, bent down and tried to cheer them up, they just ended up crying even more. 

“We should also get taiyaki. It smells so good,” Tanaka said excitedly.

“Let’s get some then,” Ennoshita pushed Tanaka’s back in the direction of the food stalls. “You two can stay here if you want.”

Ennoshita faced Nishinoya with a subtle smile, who gave a little “thanks” as a reply. It left the 2nd year and 3rd year alone together for the first time that night. But in actuality, they had spent a lot of time together during the holidays. Because it finally gave them some time to relax and not be so preoccupied by their year-related activities. The two wandered down the strip, tightly knitted together so they wouldn’t get lost in the crowd. 

“It’s always nice to take a break,” Asahi sighed happily. His hand was inches away from Nishinoya’s.

“How are your studies going?” he asked. 

“It’s...going,” he awkwardly snickered. “It’s a little stressful, but I’ve got to do it for university entrance exams so…”

Nishinoya spotted another brightly lit stand and immediately ran over to it. “Asahi-san!” he called him over. As he turned around, he revealed a small red charm. “I’ll get it for you. It’ll be for your studies.”

“It’s fine Noya,” he tried to reassure.

“Come on, let me get this for you,” his face was completely illuminated.

And he was Asahi’s weak spot. “Thanks,” a similar one in blue caught his eye. “Then I’ll get you this one. For,” he read it. “Good luck, for Nationals.”

Nishinoya smiled. “Thanks Asahi-san! I’m looking forward to going to Nationals with you.”

“You too Noya,” he waved down the owner. 

Nishinoya couldn’t stop thinking about what the future held. Asahi was in his third year. He was leaving Karasuno in the near future. So their time frame together was getting slimmer and slimmer every day. Though just being together like this, at their final summer festival, meant a lot to him.

“Here you go,” Asahi grinned, placing the charm in his hand. 

“I’ll carry this everywhere!” Noya straightened his back and pumped out his chest. “I promise!”

The flutorist always had such a gentle expression. It eased the bouncy and energy-filled Nishinoya. The shorter boy lowered the charm he bought onto Asahi’s hand. It looked tiny on his palm.

“Thanks Noya. I’ll carry it everywhere too.”

They wondered where things would go that year. There was a lingering feeling of dread for the Spring Festival. For Asahi, at least. It was his last year, and though he bottled it up from Daichi and Suga, he spent sleepless nights thinking about it. Thinking about how this will all be over soon.

Nishinoya, on the other hand, was ready to hit it with full force, wanting to attack it with all his might and practice until he ran out of breath. It wasn’t the Spring Festival he was worried about though.

“I’m super confident about the Karasuno orchestra this year,” Nishinoya said firmly. 

Asahi looked over. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Nationals is gonna feel so gooood!”

“You’re always so optimistic,” Asahi smiled. “I’m glad to have you around.”

Nishinoya blushed, his eyes widening and his lips zipped. When he looked up, with the lanterns warmly smoothing the angles of Asahi’s face, it was like every other sound became muffled. It felt like it was just the two of them. “Asahi-san.”

“Yes?”

“I-I wanted to just say that—”

_ “Noya!” _ Tanaka yelled. The trumpeter yelped. “I got you this!” 

Tanaka came bolting over, his hands filled with masks. Ennoshita was right behind him, his arms wrapped around his waist as he used all his might to hold him back. But Tanaka was like a bull, literally dragging his roommate’s whole body. They left behind dust.

“You idiot, you just ruined their moment,” Ennoshita slapped the back of Tanaka’s head. He then turned over to the burning Nishinoya. “Sorry.”

“What are you talking about?” the shortest boy belly laughed. “Everything’s fine! Right Asahi-san?”

The oldest pulled a happy expression, though he was confused. “Did I miss something?”

Ennoshita shook his head. “It’s nothing.”

✦✦✦

Daichi bent over, his right hand holding a net while his left cradled a little bowl filled with water. Suga was right next to him, his head hovering above Daichi’s shoulder.

“Can you get that one? Oh no, wait, that one,” Suga said, his finger roaming through all the goldfish.

“I can’t tell which one you’re talking about Suga,” he laughed.

“That one! The golden one,”

“They’re goldfish.”

The two boys looked out of place there. Most of the others participating in the game were little kids or straight couples. Suga felt a little self conscious, and leaned a little closer to him.

“Are you okay?” Daichi muttered, though his eyes were still glued to the water in front of him.

“Yeah—ooh, that one,” he pointed directly at a little orangey goldfish at the rim of the pool. One that kept on running into the wall. 

“Sure thing.”

In one swift scoop, Daichi picked it up on the net, and it bounced right into the bowl. 

The cellist smiled. “The net didn’t break.”

“Then we can get another one. Little tangerine will get lonely,”

“Little tangerine?”

“It’s his name!” Suga scanned the pool. “Can we get that black one? He looks sort of lonely.”

A longer black goldfish was swimming by itself right beneath them. Daichi used the edge to nudge it into his bowl. “Dang. The net broke.”

“But hey, they have each other now.”

The two third years walked away with a little goldfish each. An orange and a black. Both kept in separate plastic bags.

“We should get a bowl tomorrow,” Suga said, staring at his new pet. “Aw, it’s like we’re one big family now.”

Daichi was about to laugh, but he was cut off by a hauntingly familiar shout.

_ “Tanaka! You idiot don’t do that!” _

_ “It wasn’t me!” _

_ “You’re the only one that could’ve done it!” _

Daichi and Suga ran over and found the rest of them gathered by the edge of the festival, fiddling with cheap fireworks. Tanaka and Nishinoya were running around, trying to stamp out the rest of the fire. The grass beneath their feet was burnt. 

“How did you even do that?” Ennoshita rubbed his temples. He was clearly worn out from babysitting the two 2nd years. 

“I was trying to hold it up but Hinata ran into me and I dropped it!” Nishinoya explained. Asahi took away the rest of his fireworks. 

“Wait, then why did Tanaka drop his too?” Tsukishima coldly asked.

The trombonist shrugged. “I was just following what Noya was doing.”

“You idiot. We could’ve burnt down the festival again,” Ennoshita said.

“That’s why we did it out here,” Hinata was borderline crying. He dreaded what Daichi would’ve done to him. Maybe this was it. Maybe he was going to kill the three of them.

“What did you guys do this time?” the band captain walked over, purposefully taking slow steps. Everyone shivered. 

Ennoshita stepped forward. “Tanaka, Nishinoya and Hinata bought cheap fireworks and lit the grass on fire.”

Daichi placed his hands on his hips, all the anger bubbling. Everyone else blocked their ears. This was it. Another hour long lecture about why they shouldn’t be allowed outside anymore. He tried to ground them last time. Hopefully he wouldn’t take away their solos from jazz band. He took a large gulp of air, then parted his lips to talk, but was immediately cut off by a loud sound.

A _boom_. Another _boom_.

They all looked above them to see an array of colours. Colourful fireworks were bursting. Red. Orange. Then a green. It lit up the whole sky. The boys were in awe. 

It was the first time the boys were allowed to just...stand there. And absorb everything. No school. No music. No pressure. It was just them, watching the colourful sky in each other's presence. 

Sugawara subtly reached over to Daichi, loosely grabbing his hand. And in that moment, despite how beautifully illuminated the sky was, Daichi could only focus on him. He didn’t care about anything else. It was like the fireworks were a backdrop for Suga. Daichi squeezed his hand back. The other band captain glanced over to him in slight surprise too. He smiled, unable to pull away. 


	27. Duetto Buffo di Due Gatti

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nekoma come over to Karasuno, which means Hinata and Kenma finally meet each other.
> 
> Also I love Kuroo a lot.

Hinata stood by one of Karasuno's back entranced. The first years were told to stand each gate for the Nekoma students since it was inevitable that they'd get lost in the woods. It was virtually impossible to navigate through it if you didn't know your way around the thick, overgrown trees. 

The baritone sax player couldn't stop thinking about what the Nekoma students would be like. City kids. All the way from Tokyo. Hinata couldn't even imagine what a megacity would look like. _They had probably never seen forests like their one. Or even a tree maybe. Tokyo would be made of cool futuristic buildings, right? They were all probably rich too. And had robot waiter. Hopefully they're nice. Well if they're musicians, they're bound to be nice._

Hinata spotted a petite figure in the woods. He watched him slowly emerge amongst the trees, his feet dragging behind him and his back hunched. Sighing, he reluctantly pulled out his phone. 

Hinata shouted at the top of his lungs, “Hey!”

The boy yelped, and looked at him with confusion.

He bolted over to him, jumping to a halt. He had the brightest smile on his lips. “Are you lost? Are you from Nekoma?”

“Uhh…” he blinked, then rubbed his eyes. His movements were slower and more reserved compared to Hinata’s racey and bouncy nature. “Yeah.”

He leaned down and looked at his instrument. “Woah! You’re an oboe player. I’m a baritone sax player!”

The Nekoma boy ran his eyes up and down Hinata's stature, then squinted. “But you’re so small.”

“W-Well,” he cleared his throat. “I can blow!” he shot out a hand. “And I’m Hinata Shouyou. What’s your name?”

“Kozume…”

“Kozume?”

“Kozume...Kenma,” he was barely audible. It was like he was mumbling to himself. 

“What’s Tokyo like? Is it big?”

“I guess,”

“Bigger than Miyagi?”

“By a lot,”

“Do you like Miyagi?”

“Not really,”

“Oh,” Hinata pondered for a moment. “Well I bet I can change your mind!”

Kenma was introverted, to say the least. He didn’t have the energy to maintain a conversation. He just wasn’t bothered. But Hinata either didn’t notice, or chose to ignore it, as he continued to ask him questions to prolong their interaction. It was different to what Kenma was used to. He hated to admit it, but he was swayed a little.

"You don't talk much, do you?" Hinata asked. Before he could answer, he continued. "Yeah. That's okay, I'm used to it. My roommate isn't much of a talker sometimes. Unless you get him really angry. Then he won't stop shouting. But he's actually pretty cool. Kageyama's like that, you'll get used to it. He's super intense and dark but he's nice when you get to know him."

"...Kageyama?"

"Yeah! He's a double bass player. I feel like you'll like him!" Hinata brightened. But before Kenma could catch up, he was already onto his next topic. “So how's Tokyo? Is it cool? I bet you guys are so cool too!” the saxophonist gushed. "I'm really excited to hear you guys play today."

Kenma pulled his case closer to him. “I don’t know if we're necessarily "cool" but...I think recently,” he looked towards Hinata, his eyes a little harsher than before. “We’ve become quite good.”

_ He has cat eyes. _

_ “Finally I’ve found you!”  _

Another Nekoma figure emerged. He placed a hang onto Kenma’s shoulder. His expression was a little kinder, but just as intimidating. The taller boy had a smirk on his lips, and his towering stature made Hinata a little nervous.

“Kuroo,” Kenma simply stated, turning his attention to him. 

“Thanks for finding my kitten,” the taller boy said towards Hinata, his sarcastic smile stretching out further. “He gets lost easily.”

“No worries!”

Hinata entered Karasuno campus with the two Nekoma students trailing behind him. Kuroo grinned over to Kenma, and the shorter boy huffed as a reply.

"So you made a new friend, huh?"

He grunted. "Shut up."

✦✦✦

Hinata was kind enough to show the two to the Karasuno hall. Despite being the last two to appear at their mini concert, the hall was far from being set up. It gave Karasuno and Nekoma some time to wind down, unpack, and tune before they performed for each other. 

Because of that, Kuroo dragged Kenma outside for a drink. He knew that the younger boy always needed to refresh his head before they performed. Or else, he'd get bored and quit, or get too lazy and quit. 

“So who’s your friend?” Kuroo asked. He bought them both a drink at the vending machine.

“Hinata Shouyou. He’s a baritone sax player,” he answered straight, taking the drink and cracking it open.

“Him? A bari sax?” Kenma nodded. “Geez. Can he play?”

“Apparently he can “blow”,”

Kuroo sneered. “That’s what she said,” he opened his own drink, and made sure that Kenma took a sip of his. Since he had a tendency to avoid food and drink altogether if Kuroo left him long enough. “So? Did you check out Karasuno in there?” Kenma nodded again to his question. “What do you think they’ll play?”

“They’re wind heavy, I noticed. A lot of brass with mostly tenors and basses,” his eyes were glued to the ground, as if his body had frozen so all his energy was dedicated to his train of thought. “They’ll play concert band music. A Barrett; Holst; Grainger type of piece. Maybe a Hazo; W. Smith,” he continued to ponder. “Bernstein. Something along those lines.” 

“You better be right,  _ genius _ ,” 

Kenma grumbled, “That’s not fair.”

Kuroo gently tapped his bottle with Kenma's. Like a little cheers before they performed. Though it was a little tap, he could feel all the adrenaline gushing through his veins. He couldn't wait to perform. He could already feel the sensation of playing his clarinet in his lungs.

"I just trust you, _brains_."

✦✦✦

Karasuno were now sitting in their usual positions within the orchestra. Ukai Sensei stood in front of them, his bow in one hand. 

“I wanted to say a big thank you to Nekoma for coming all this way. We’re glad to have you here,” the room was filled with an applause. “Today, we’ll be playing _ “Overture of Candide” _ . I hope you enjoy it.”

_ Shit. A Bernstein piece. _ Kuroo felt Kenma’s eyes burning into his jawline. A look of “I told you so”. Kuroo smirked and nodded, like he was acknowledging his correct guess. 

Though it was only Nekoma watching, it felt like the whole world was the audience to Karasuno. They had to take it as seriously as they would've at any other concert. Whether it was 3 people watching or 30 000. It wasn't any different. A performance is a performance and they gave their all in each and every one. 

Karasuno had gotten a lot stronger with this piece. Though they took a break because of Tanaka's solo at the concert, they bounced right back afterwards. Especially since the end of the holidays. 

They now managed to get every note under their fingers. Some phrases were a little rusty though, even the Karasuno musicians could recognise it within themselves. Their blending was also sacrificed during some of the harder sections (particularly the runs), which was something else they needed to work on. But at that point, it didn’t really matter. It was a practice concert, and it was still an improvement from before.

Kenma, despite his poker face, was intricately paying attention to their piece. Candide was messy, lively and strong. It was like how he viewed Hinata. And he sort of liked it. he was brash and unimaginably fun, but there was still a sense of musicality to it (unlike Lev—Kenma thought).

Actually, he could specifically hear Hinata in the piece . He was loud. Like, noticeably loud. And had a striking tone that anyone could pick up on.

Karasuno clearly lacked proper technique. Though some players, particularly the strings, relied on technique, the winds tended to be harsher and Kenma noticed that many purposefully skipped over some of the technical aspects of the piece. Though on the other hand, they had nicer tones. So they had pros and cons, like every orchestra did. But there was noticeably a long way to go until the piece was mastered. 

Karasuno was interesting. It wasn't the standard orchestra at all. It felt more free yet passionate. Like they were truly doing it for the music, in some way. But  above all, Hinata was the most interesting. 

He looked as if he had mastered musicality—everything to do with it actually. His tone was crisp; his long tones were smooth; his phrases were just as it was written, even in the moments that juxtaposed the other sections. But, his posture was lazy; his fingers fumbled; and he missed some cues because he clearly couldn’t count. But saying that, Kenma could pick up on his natural ability, and was slightly taken aback by it. 

Even Kuroo noticed, pointing towards Karasuno and whispering over,  _ “They’re bass section is really strong” _ . Kenma nodded, and he continued, “That double bass player is trouble. So’s your friend.”

Kenma’s eyes darted towards Kageyama. He had an intense aura about him, heightened by his playing. His fingers somehow made it to every note in a run. In contrast, most players ghost played runs since it wasn’t too noticeable if they messed up. But not Kageyama. He nailed every one, with each note in perfect proportion to each other. His tone was also firm and clear. Double bass players ranged from overwhelmingly thick, to unnoticeably silent. He somehow mastered both. Kageyama clearly had a talent for music too. If he hadn't known any better, he'd think they're perfect for each other. 

The Nekoma student squinted his eyes slightly. 

“You noticed something?” Kuroo asked over. By that point, Yaku had taken notice of Kenma’s entranced state. It was a state he rarely went into (since he was mostly too lazy to do so) but they always relied on it to get them through festivals. Kenma was the brains after all. 

“Karasuno sucks,” Kenma muttered. The two third years could barely hold in their chuckles. But of course they inhaled and kept it in so they weren't so rude. “But when they get their technique under control, they’re gonna be unstoppable.”

Their confidence immediately washed away. 

_It's those two first years. They're trouble._ Kenma's eyes thinned. 

Karasuno rose to their feet and bowed. In that moment, Kenma and Hinata's eyes locked together.  They exchanged warm smiles, despite Kenma fully aware of Kageyama's glare digging into his side. _God that bass player is exhausting to deal with._


	28. Waltz of the Flowers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nekoma and Karasuno bonding time because it's what we deserve.

Nekoma took their positions in the orchestra. Hinata cheered, waving towards Kenma who replied with an embarrassed bow. He could barely contain his excitement. 

Tokyo was notoriously a stronger prefecture than Miyagi. Obviously, they had a massive population and was a literal megacity. Even so, he didn’t know what to expect. He was already blown away by Seijou’s performance, and they hadn’t even gone to Nationals. So Nekoma must've been amazing—no—beyond amazing. 

“Thank you for having us Ukai Sensei,” their conductor smiled. “It’s always nice to come back to Karasuno. A lot has changed since your father ran the orchestra but we're thankful to be back ,” the two conductors exchanged grins (though it was a little passive aggressive). “We’ll be playing  _ ‘Waltz of the Flowers’ _ today. Thank you.”

This was a well known classical piece. Hinata imagined a grand ball—everything would be golden, there’d be a chandelier, and this would piece would fill the entire room.  It’s graceful. It’s light on its feet. It’s as if every note was gently and carefully placed down. 

It was a good piece for Nekoma. They were soprano heavy, so a waltz highlighted them well. They were also filled with mostly technical musicians, so a classical piece showcased their talents, while hiding their lack of expression. 

As the piece settled, Kenma stood up. With his oboe, he piped out a soothing solo. He was a little quiet, but the orchestra acted accordingly, immediately holding back as he took to his feet. Kenma’s sound was almost like a feather. It was incredibly delicate and thin, and yet, it seemed to glide within the music. As he expressively rocked his oboe in his hands, the orchestra adjusted. Their phrases swung a little more to better accompany his solo. 

Kuroo came in to play alongside him. His countermelodies harmonised with Kenma, creating a richer sound. It was like the clarinetist purposefully held back. But even with a slight toll on his individual performance, overall, it made the piece sound more cohesive and put together. Like everyone was playing similarly to Kenma so they could blend better.

From that point on, Nekoma’s sound brewed together more. It was still dainty and airy, but it was more melodious and round. In some ways, they sounded like a professional orchestra. One that played on luxurious cruise ships, or a formal ball for the rich.

As it inched closer and closer to the ending, the music swelled. Up and up. Getting louder and louder; higher and higher. Each section would glide through the notes, but it’d become a little more chaotic. It’s grander and thicker than before. Strings with their runs. Bass blasting underneath them. And it all ended with a forceful but still full staccato. 

You could hear a pin drop.

Karasuno rose to their feet. An applause filled the room. Both Kenma and Kuroo stood up first, as they had solos. Kenma locked eyes with Hinata, and gave him a look that he couldn't properly decipher. The oboist's expression was flat, but there was a faint grin at his lips (though Hinata had no idea whether it was sincere or sarcastic) (he was hoping it'd be the first one). 

Hinata felt his body freeze, unable to even clap, though he wanted to. Maybe it was admiration. Maybe it his sudden urge to practice even harder. 

At that moment, he realised that Karasuno had a long way to go. And Nekoma was the next thing they needed to conquer. 

✦✦✦

Following the concert, Nekoma were treated to dinner at the cafeteria before they went back to Tokyo. This gave them the opportunity to interact with one another for once, without a sense of rivalry and hostility. 

“You guys were so good! The “bam bam baaam” in that beginning part was so good! Oh! And the “swoop swoop” phrase by the strings! Wow! It was amazing!” Hinata shouted, jumping up and down. He hadn’t sat still since they got there. “And your  _ solo _ ?! Why didn’t you tell me you’re a solist?” Kenma just shrugged. “Because it was so cool! I wanna hear it again, and again, and again and—”

“Hinata!” Suga came running, grabbing the back of Hinata's shirt. He turned towards the Nekoma students with a plastered on smile. “I’m sorry about him. He can be a bit much.”

Yaku wrapped an arm around Kenma’s shoulder, who immediately shoved it off. His face was just as fake and socially acceptable as Suga. “No no. I’m sorry about this one. He can be a little…” he stared at him. Kenma refused to even meet his gaze. “...annoying.”

“Your trombone part was pretty good for a _City_ _Boy_ ,” Tanaka jabbed towards a Nekoma student with his cheeks filled with rice.

Yamamoto’s eyes fumed with rage. “What did you say  _ baldy _ ?”

“Tanaka,” Daichi warned. 

Simultaneously, Kuroo firmly grunted, “Yamamoto.”

The whole room was almost erupting with chatter. It was messy, chaotic and you could barely hear anything, but every musician was laughing like there was no tomorrow. Maybe to the point where they'd lose their voices the next day. 

“Shit,” a tall boy stumbled into the room after literally smacking his head on the door frame. 

“Lev. Language,” Yaku barked, shuffling over for the first year. 

“Sorry,” he laughed. “I couldn’t fit through the door.”

Hinata shivered. Lev was almost twice his height. When he realised that the first year was staring at him, he faced him with an even wider grin.

“You’re the bari, right?” he asked. 

"Yeah!" Hinata happily announced. Any mention of his bari lit a fire inside of him. "You're the frenchy right?"

"Sure am!" he shot out a hand and Hinata graciously shook it. “I’m Lev Haiba."

"I'm Shouyou Hinata! Nice to meet you," he noticed that Lev's hands gobbled up his own. 

Lev drank down his whole miso soup in a single gulp. “You were great by the way."

He lit up. “Really?!”

“Yeah! It’s crazy! You’re the same size as your instrument!”

Hinata went pale. Like, deathly pale. 

“Lev,” Yaku hit his waist. “Apologise.”

The french hornist chucked. “Sorry Hinata!”

Meanwhile, Kageyama was staring Kenma down. The two socially awkward boys were trying to avoid each other as much as possible. Kenma thought it had something to do with Hinata— _ ’Is he jealous because I’m talking to his boyfriend?’ ‘Are they dating?’ _ . But in actuality, Kageyama was mustering up the courage to compliment his oboe solo—i _ t was good; it was nice; it sounded very solid— _ but he couldn't get a single word out. 

Kenma squirmed with discomfort before he just escaped with his tray. Almost like a scared kittne.

_Shit I scared him_ —Kageyama swore under his breath. Hinata ended up following Kenma with his empty plates,  completely oblivious to Kageyama’s stares. 

They walked over to the sink. From the look of it, Kenma barely ate anything. 

“Aren’t you hungry?” Hinata questioned.

The 2nd year shook his head.

“Are you sure? I can get you something,”

He shook his head again.

Hinata began lowering each plate into the sink.  “How did we go today?” 

The oboist looked at him straight in the eyes, “Bad.”

He stared in disbelief. Because of his honesty, but also from how "bad" they did. “Wait. Actually?”

He shrugged. “I guess. Karasuno’s messy. The timing is sort of off in the middle section. Winds are too loud.”

“What about me?”

“You’re funny,”

His words would’ve offended most people, but Hinata didn’t pick up on it at all. “Thank you!”

“Your technique is bad, your posture is wrong, you’re too loud,” with every single comment, Hinata was literally hammered into the ground. “But, your musicality is good, your phrases are correct, and you have consistent dynamics.”

“Woah! So you think I’m good?” 

“No,” Kenma deadpanned. Hinata broke. “But you could be good. You could be really good. Even better than that double bassist.”

“You mean Kageyama?” as he asked, he nodded. “How do you know he’s good?”

“I can hear him. I can hear everyone,” he stated simply. Hinata imagined him as a super genius. Like a superhero.  _ A superhero of music. Woah.  _

“Well, I don’t need to be better than him. I’m playing alongside him after all,”

Kenma hummed in amusement. He was clearly delighted by Hinata, and now Kageyama (or at least, his relationship to Hinata). The oboist spread a little smirk that only Kuroo would notice. 

At the same time, Kageyama had walked up to them to put away his empty tray. His legs were straightened abnormally, and he still had the lump in his throat. _Say you like his solo. Say you like his solo Say you like_ —

But he was completely blindsided by what happened next.

“I like you Hinata,” Kenma said, a small grin by his lips.

Kageyama’s insides crumbled, until only dust remained. 

Hinata brightened. “I like you too!”

Kageyama immediately wanted to run over to him, grab him by the collar, and scream directly into Kenma’s face. But he somehow couldn’t. He just felt the feeling of dread pool at his toes.

With that, the Nekoma player strolled back to his position in the cafeteria, his face returning to its regular frown. 

Kuroo moved to let Kenma sit next to him. “What the hell was that?”

“What?” his back hunched over as he tiresomely collapsed onto the table. Kena honestly just wanted to go back to his dorm and ignore the whole world for a couple of days. The amount of chaotic energy in that room was destroying his insides. 

“You actually looked alive when you talked to him,” Kuroo said, his voice having the usual sarcastic twang it tended to have.

“I was mostly joking,” Kenma dismissed. 

“Your jokes are weird,”

“I wanted to see his reaction.”

Both Nekoma students darted their attention towards Hinata and Kageyama. The latter was burning with rage while Hinata stared at him in confusion. 

"And that's what you wanted?" Kuroo asked over.

"Yeah. Basically." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is potentially a little explicit...potentially...maybe...sue me.


	29. Swan Lake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A chapter set in Nekoma.

The Nekoma Orchestra was a little more motivated after the Karasuno mini concert. Their first rehearsal back consisted of harsher critiques from Kuroo—which was something he refrained from doing until they were closer to festivals and concerts—and Yaku's firm commentary on the side. Even Kenma was more motivated. Which was saying a lot. 

“Lev,” the second year angrily grumbled. It was just as they were wrapping up, when Lev was about to pick up his sheet music. “You’re too loud.”

The first year lowered his instrument onto his lap. “What?”

“You’re too loud,” Yaku repeated for him as he snaked around Lev's waist and looked over his piece. "Wait.  It’s the same part I circled for you last week!”

“Oh yeah,” the tallest boy laughed. “Sorry about that.”

“You prioritise blasting instead of actual phrases,” Kenma grumbled, his brows scrunched together. “You'll never be as good as Shouyou.”

Kenma came across cold, but everyone knew that they needed him. He really _was_ a genius. He chose almost every piece for Nekoma since he had the ability to perfectly choose the ones that showed them off perfectly. He knew how to flaunt each section according to their playing style, as well as formulate a plan to destroy the competition. You could say that he wasn't the world's best musician (he lacked strength, a full tone, and breath control), but he was a deadly weapon for Nekoma. 

“H-Hey!” Lev defensively shouted, springing to his feet. Kenma completely ignored him, walking over to his case to pack away his oboe. The first year was left in a confused state. “God, what’s up with him today?”

Yaku shrugged. “He’s been different since we got back.”

Kuroo took notice of his comment. Darting his eyes towards his partner, he found the petite boy tucked away in the corner, his eyes glued onto his phone. Kenma was always on some sort of device, constantly playing some sort of game, but it was different. He was texting someone, and he had been all day.

Kuroo walked over to him to pack away his clarinet. “So? Who are you talking to?” 

“Shouyou,” he answered, still not looking up from his phone. 

“How did you find his number?”

“I have my ways.”

Kuroo grabbed Kenma’s case for him (as he tended to do), and walked him to the 2nd year dormitory. Which is what he did every single day. Little first year Kenma got lost on campus after his first class, and ended up calling Kuroo at 5PM to pick him up. So the older boy had to lead him to his dorm and make sure he was completely safe and sound. Apparently, it’s because he spotted a kitten and decided to play with it, and before he realised, it was dark and on the other side of campus.

The clarinetist laughed at the memory. Nothing had really changed. After every orchestra rehearsal, Kuroo walked Kenma back to his room, sometimes darting to the cafeteria if they were hungry. Then, he’d make sure Kenma was asleep before he went back to his own dorm. 

The two boys entered the confines of Kenma’s dorm. The 2nd year hurried off to his bed, completely collapsing onto his stomach as he breathed in the familiarity. Meanwhile, Kuroo flicked the light on and watched Kenma from afar. His face was still stuck onto the phone screen like it was his new favourite thing. 

“You’re still texting him?” Kuroo rubbed his temples, clearly annoyed.

Kenma mumbled a little “Yeah,” which was muffled by the pillow.

“Tsk, you've been talking to him all day,” 

“He always…” he trailed off when he began typing, then continued. “Has something to talk about.”

Kuroo pushed off of his knees and lunged over to the 2nd year. In one swift motion, he chucked aside his phone, and landed right next to him on his bed. 

Kenma knitted his brows together. “Why did you do that?”

The third year leaned in, their lips brushing together. It was ever so soft, like he was teasing him. Kenma's cheeks flushed a rosy hue. “Because you weren’t paying attention to me.”

“What are you? A kid?”

He leaned in for another kiss, one that was slightly longer this time. Kuroo placed a hand on both sides of Kenma’s waist as he adjusted himself. He was now hovering over the smaller boy. Kuroo smirked. Just as he scooped down, Kenma’s phone buzzed again.

He reached over, but Kuroo cut him off. Grabbing his hand, he showered his knuckles with kisses.

Kenma cringed, “Don’t.”

“Too late.”

Another kiss on his lips. Followed by another. Until Kuroo began a trail from his cheeks, down to his neck.

“I-I don’t like it,” Kenma tried to sound angry, but he couldn't help but to quiver a little. His hands already felt numb.

“I know. But your face looks cute whenever I do it.”

Kuroo's whispers lightly brushed his collarbones, and he could feel it trickle down his spine. He lined his finger along Kenma’s silhouette. From the front of his shoulder, down to his chest, slowly snaking down his waist. Every single touch sent jolts through his body. _God. Could he hurry up?_ Kenma's toes curled. 

“Is your roommate gonna interrupt us again?” Kuroo asked in a low voice.

The second year swallowed, finding that his throat was dry. “No. He’s off at a basketball match. They won't be back until tomorrow. B-But—”

“I might still get in trouble because I’m in the 2nd year dorms. I know,” Kuroo finished the sentence for him. The older boy undid his shirt. He took a painfully long time to undo every button with his thumb. And Kenma’s eyes were glued to every little one. 4...3...2— “Your face is really red. Are you okay?”

Kuroo’s smug expression made everything worse. It doubled every burn he felt.  “S-Shut up.”

He parted his lips to quip, but was cut off by the buzzing of his own phone in his back pocket. The clarinetist perked up, then reached for it.

Kenma’s face churned with a mix of anger and impatience. “Why are you allowed to look on your phone but I’m not?”

“Because I’m not cheating on my boyfriend,” he answered it. 

“I’m not cheating—”

Kuroo cut him off, shushing him with his pointer finger. “Yaku? Hey. What’s up?”

Kenma pouted, then sunk back into the bed. 

_ “Kai and Nekomata Sensei wanted to see Karasuno again,”  _

“Oh right,” Kuroo replied. He used his free hand to tease Kenma, his fingers gently tracing along the other boy’s hip bones. “Any ideas?”

_ “Well we wanted to run it by you to see if you had any,” _

Kuroo hummed casually. Every touch made Kenma ache more and more. He’d run his hands up and down his waist, even walking his fingers towards his buttons. But he’d stop every time, making the other boy squirm. 

“Ngh Kuroo,”

_ “Is Kenma there?” _

Yaku asked through the phone. Kuroo looked down at the boy underneath him, his smirk stretching out even more. “Yeah he is.”

_ “Can you pass the phone over to him? I want to see if he has any ideas,” _

“Yeah sure.”

He smiled like an idiot as he passed the phone over to the 2nd year. Kenma gulped. He reluctantly accepted it, completely dreading what was going to happen next.

“H-Hello?”

Kuroo leaned down to his stomach, showering every inch with kisses. Kenma kicked him, the tickles urging him to laugh. 

_ “Kenma, we wanted to see Karasuno again. Do you have any ideas on what we should do?” _

“Umm…” he began, his voice quivering. Kuroo gestured for him to talk. His lips were hovering above his shirt buttons, and he undid every single one of them with his teeth. “What about inviting them to band camp?”

Kenma’s stomach was bare. Kuroo sneered, then proceeded to line his fingers along Kenma’s waist band. He had a firm grasp of him, and raised an eyebrow like he was asking ‘oh? What’s this?’ in a teasing tone. The 2nd year swore under his breath. _F_ _ uck fuck fuck— _

_ “Oh? That’s a good idea. I’ll suggest it to Nekomata Sensei. Thanks.” _

The oboist gulped then ended the call. He tossed the phone away and immediately flung his arms out to capture Kuroo in a tight embrace. He messily crashed their lips together. Hot breaths mixing, hands grasping, tongues swirling. Breathlessly, Kenma parted.

“God, I love it when you’re fired up,” Kuroo said, running his hand through his cowlick.

“I’m not fired up,” Kenma contested, though his blush indicated otherwise. 

“You are,”

“I’m not,”

Another kiss. 

“You are,”

“I’m not,”

Another load of kisses. This time, with Kuroo’s hands roaming every inch of Kenma’s back. He gasped. 

“Well, you are.”

On the other side, Yaku had sighed and tucked his phone away. Lev was lying around on his bed. The two of them were in the third year dormitory, which was something they did at least once a week (if Lev begged hard enough). First years were mostly banned from the third year dorm, but since Lev was tall, it was usually hard to tell.

Sometimes they studied. Sometimes they just read manga. Most times, Yaku threatened to kick him out every ten minutes but Lev’s lovable nature would reel him back in. And the cycle would repeat over and over until Lev fell asleep and Yaku finally caved into a smile.

“So?” the first year asked. 

The older boy sighed, sitting at the end of the bed. “We’ll invite Karasuno to the Tokyo band camp.”

He lit up. “Woah, that’d be so cool.”

Lev was taking up the other boy’s whole bed, to the point where his legs were dangling at the end. He lay on his stomach with his arms crossed and his eyes wide as he peered up at Yaku.

He looked so comfortable, like he could’ve just fallen asleep right then and there. And it pissed Yaku off. “When the hell are you leaving?”

Lev was loud. He was dominating. He also borderline delusional (according to a lot of Nekoma). But Yaku weirdly liked having him around. He was funny, charming, and always fun to talk to. 

But God, he tended to get on his nerves. Especially because he always felt a mess in his room. He littered Yaku’s side of the room in empty chip packets and chocolate wrappers, and he seemed to miss the bin every time. And the third year just wasn’t bothered to clean it up. 

“What?” Lev cried, sitting on his knees. “I thought you liked me being here.”

“No. No I don’t,” he said, deadpanned. 

He sniffed, “Why?” 

“Because you’re loud, and annoying, and look at his mess!” he threw his hands. Lev looked around, then pulled an expression of _ ‘yeah, true’. _ “Also you won’t shut up when I’m trying to sleep,” Yaku reminded. “Remember last time? At the holiday we went on? Every time I shut my eyes, you started talking again!”

“I’ll shut up when I sleep,”

“You’re not sleeping here!”

“Why not?”

“It’s against the school rules,” Yaku said, trying to shove him off the bed. The first year stumbled, crashing onto the ground.“You have your own room anyway.”

“But your roommate’s gone because of the basketball game, right?” Lev mentioned. He was now sitting in front of him, with Yaku still on the bed. 

“Yeah but…” he thought about it. He tried to find every excuse. But ended up settling onto nothing. “You never fall asleep when I’m around,” Yaku said, reluctantly looking away. “And you’ll be a tired mess at tomorrow morning’s rehearsal.”

“But you always help me fix my mistakes so it should be fine,”

“Well,” the third year caved into a grin. “That’s true.”

“Then can I…?” Lev gently placed a hand onto Yaku’s calf. He shivered. Then he slowly slid it higher. “Stay?”

Yaku, despite being the older of the two and the one usually in charge, couldn’t resist when Lev looked at him like that. He just exhaled, and let him take over. 

Lev straddled Yaku’s fallen body. He was so much taller than him, but he somehow looked even bigger when he was hovering above him like that on the bed. Their lips locked. The taller boy's lips tasted like sweet chocolate. 

“Mmm...why do you always try to push me away?” Lev said between kisses.

He grinded against him, which made Yaku gasp for air. “Because you’re an annoying idiot.”

“You love me though, right?”

He was dead serious. His eyes said it all.

“Of course I do,” Yaku said, his fingers playing with Lev’s silver locks. “I would’ve left ages ago if I didn’t.”

“Then why do you always yell at me?” Lev refused to move any closer. His hands were hovering above Yaku’s shirt, and his lips were inches away from his. 

“I…” he sighed. “I guess it’s because I’m an idiot too.”

That was enough of an answer for him. He lunged down, kissing him hard. It sent tingles down his spine as he moaned and pulled him in even closer. Yaku could feel his mind go blank. Every thought he had was melting into the abyss.

Lev parted, leaving a trail of kisses down to his neck. With every peck, Yaku held onto his back harsher and harsher. He wanted him to hurry up. 

“Don’t leave marks on me,” the third year drew out harshly, biting down on his lip. 

“I’ll try not to,” 

“You said that last time,”

Lev chuckled. “I don’t mean to. You just taste so good.”

“Le—!” he was cut off when he sunk his teeth into his neck. He whimpered. “ _ Lev! _ ”

“Sorry!”

✦✦✦

Despite Yaku’s initial refusal, Lev ended up staying the whole night. And yes, he ended up putting away all the rubbish. 

Yaku’s hands climbed around the bedside table as he mindlessly searched for his phone. He turned it on. “Shit.”

“What?” Lev was completely naked next to him. He used his long arms to reel him back to bed. 

“It’s 8AM,” he answered, trying to uncurl himself from the tangled limbs. 

“Shit,” Lev sat up and scratched his head. “That’s later than I thought.”

“Language,”

“You’re allowed to say it,”

“I’m older than you.”

Yaku rushed to put on his clothes. Lev, on the other hand, lingered around in the warm bed. He took his time, breathing in the morning sunshine and to enjoy every moment of Yaku getting dressed. 

The 3rd year’s eyes were on fire. “Hurry up! What are you doing?!”

“Rehearsal starts in 1 hour! We’ll be fine,”

“No the problem is—”

“Yaku! Are you up?!” Kuroo kicked open the door like he did every morning before rehearsal. Except that morning, well, it was a little different. 

He found a completely naked Lev in bed, with Yaku wearing his pants inside out. Kuroo blinked. It took him a second to process it. Then suddenly bursted out into laughter, clutching his stomach. 

Yaku stammered and quickly reached over to the closest shirt. Which just happened to be Lev's. “Shut up!”

Kuroo fell to his knees, unable to settle down his fit of laughter. He couldn't breathe. He genuinely couldn't breathe. 

The 1st year tended to be a lot more honest. “It’s exactly what it looks like.”

“Lev!” Yaku scolded.

“What? Kuroo-san is scary!”

“BAHAHAHA I CAN’T BELIEVE IT!” Kuroo’s roar of a laughter echoed throughout the whole building. Like, the entire building. 

"L-Lev it's your fault!" Yaku's head was about to burst. He could feel his body collapsing in on itself. 

The first year pouted. Yes, he was still completely naked. "What did I do?"

"You did," Yaku panicked and gestured messily over his body. "This."

"The hickey isn't even that bad!"

Kuroo cackled. "HICKEY?!" 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Karasuno’s slow burn; Seijou are all fluffy and domestic; then there’s Nekoma. They’re all fucking.


	30. Duet for Violin and Cello in C major

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yamaguchi has the opportunity to play for the jazz band. Hopefully he doesn't mess it up.

Yamaguchi gulped, reeling the guitar close to his chest. He was nervous; just as nervous as he would be if they were at a concert or festival. He was at the jazz band rehearsal for the first time as an actual player. All the other musicians were casually unpacking their respective instruments, having familiar banter like they always did. But Yamaguchi sat by himself in the corner, feeling more and more nauseous as the clock ticked

Tsukishima placed a hand on his shoulder. He jumped. “You’ll be fine.”

Yamaguchi looked up at him, his face ghostly. “Do you think so?”

"Yamaguchi," he uttered, his gaze firm. "You'll be fine."

With that, Tsukishima just left him, sitting in front of the piano and resting his sheet music on the stand. Yamaguchi did the same, taking up the final empty seat. Kageyama was next to him, uncomfortably staring down at him. He wasn’t necessarily trying to come across as intimidating, he just couldn’t stop looking at him—partially from confusion, and partially because he was intrigued to hear him play.

“Thanks Yamaguchi,” Ennoshita called over to him. “We needed a guitarist.”

“N-No worries,” he whimpered out. He stared down at the sheet music.  _ Sing Sing Sing. Okay, this didn’t have too many chords.  _ The part that scared him the most was the ad lib section. How would he know how many times they’d loop it? How many solos were they going to be? Who’d play those solos? 

The freedom that jazz gave to music was completely different to classical. And that scared him.

The piece opened with the iconic swing melody. Yamaguchi stared intensely at his music, making sure to hit every chord on the down beat. As long as he listened to Daichi, who was sitting right behind him, he was fine. He let him take the lead as he acted accordingly. 

They were all playing faster, harsher and louder than Yamaguchi was used to. It was like complicated and messy footwork that he had to work around. He was trying to tie it altogether with the rest of the rhythm section, which was difficult considering the chaotic wind players.

Then the ad lib section came. The first solo was by Nishinoya. He ripped the highest notes possible. His face was dyed a deep red as he blasted through his trumpet. This was followed by Tanaka, who had more grounded and strong. His playing stooped low, as he bounced along the lower register. It was something completely different to Nishinoya, and yet complimentarily strong and rough. 

Ennoshita raised his hand, and all the musicians stopped. "Okay here, Nishinoya, Tanaka. Swap."

The two brass players nodded. They reached over to their pencils and started to mark in the changes. 

Yamaguchi gave a sigh of relief, sinking into his chair. When he looked over to Tsukishima, his roommate was smiling at him. It was a soft grin, but it was something Yamaguchi instantly recognised, and appreciated right away.

“What’s with your face?” Hinata asked, directly pointing at Tsukishima. 

The taller boy scoffed, then shoved his glasses higher up his nose bridge. “I could ask you the same thing.”

“Meanie.”

✦✦✦

Rehearsal wrapped up fairly quickly. The third years rushed away to study, while 1st years and 2nd years lingered around to pack everything up. 

“Was I good Tsukki?” Yamaguchi zipped up his guitar case.

Tsukishima hummed. “Yeah. We should celebrate,” as he said this, Yamaguchi’s face lit up. He said it in a simple manner, and yet, it was everything his partner wanted to hear. “Let’s go out tonight.”

“Really? We don’t have to if you don’t—” 

“Shut up Yamaguchi,” he cut him off, avoiding his gaze. His cheeks were flushed a little pink. 

“Sorry Tsukki.”

Hinata’s ears perked up as he overheard their conversation, “Did you hear that?”

Kageyama was packing up his bass. “What?”

"Yamaguchi and Tsukishima are going out!" the shorter boy said with excitement. Kageyama would've spat out his drink...if he had a drink. “We should go out too!” 

The bassist nearly tripped over. “What?!”

“Like, go somewhere,” he said innocently. Kageyama sighed. “We haven’t gone anywhere since we got here!”

“No,”

“Why?”

“I don’t want to,”

Hinata pouted. “Please,” he pleaded, his eyes wide. “There’s a huge mall I want to go to!” 

“Go by yourself,”

“But I want to go with you,” both Hinata and Kageyama were surprised by what he said. He was always honest, but he was even more so than usual. Both their faces turned a deep red. 

“Fine,” he tucked his chin towards his chest. “Let’s go tomorrow then idiot.”

✦✦✦

Tsukishima threw on his auburn jacket and exited their room. Grabbing his wallet on the way out, he met up with the excited yet breathless Yamaguchi in the hallway.

“You ready?” he asked. Yamaguchi nodded.

He was so sure that he knew Tsukki inside out, but had no idea why he asked him out. Tsukishima hated leaving campus; he was never bothered to go outside, let alone at night. Yamaguchi thought that he’d be the one to beg Tsukishima to eat outside of campus for once, and he’d only agree if it was for a really, really good reason. 

They walked down the street. It was mostly dark, with only sections lit up by dimmed street lights. Yamaguchi walked a little close to Tsukishima, feeling a little rattled.

“Are you scared?” the taller boy asked with a slight snicker.

“Sorry Tsukki,” he flung apart, but Tsukishima reeled him back in. 

“It’s fine.”

So Yamaguchi stood close enough to feel the warmth of his body. It was much closer than Tsukishima ever let him stand. And he was happier than ever. He could barely contain the redness of his face (luckily it was dark).

They entered a family restaurant. It looked so colourful and lively inside. The two boys got a booth at the other end of the room. It was somewhat filled, mostly with families but also with a couple of Karasuno third years. 

Yamaguchi smiled to himself. It felt like they were junior high kids again. After band rehearsal and tutoring, they used to pass by the same family restaurant chain near their house and get something small to eat. He always loved having dinner together; it was like they were a married couple going out after a long day. Even though Yamaguchi enjoyed it, Tsukishima never seemed to. He hated going out, and he’d rather go home starving than eat out in front of other people. He’d only ever go because Yamaguchi begged. 

“I’ll get a hamburg set," Tsukishima ordered. "Yamaguchi?” 

“Oh, umm. A curry. Thanks.”

Usually, Tsukishima didn’t eat much. They’d order something to share, or Yamaguchi just waited for leftovers since he’d get the majority of the food anyways. But he was happy to see Tsukishima ordering something.

“Are you surprised?” he asked.

Yamaguchi sipped on his water. “I guess, but I’m glad Tsukki! I love going out with you and it’s always nice to get a bite to eat,” he enthused. “...but I thought you hate eating out.”

“You always get worried if I don’t eat enough so…” Tsukishima trailed off. 

Their orders came in a hurry. Which was good, since there was a lingering silence pooling between them. Yamaguchi felt like something was wrong.  _ There had to be something wrong. It just didn’t feel right. Did he do something wrong? _

“Jazz band was fun, wasn’t it?” Yamaguchi tried to start a conversation.

Tsukishima hummed. “I suppose.”

“I really like playing the guitar now. It’s so different from the cello,” he shoved a spoon full of curry into his mouth. “And it’s nice to play something other than classical music for once. It’s a lot more free and it feels like you can do whatever you want.”

“Perfect for an idiot like Hinata,” the two of them laughed. 

“I find it fun though,” he shrugged. “What about you Tsukki? Do you like it?”

“Not really,” he admitted. His straight expression made Yamaguchi chuckle. “But if you like it, I suppose I’m fine.”

He said it so nonchalantly, but Yamaguchi’s face burned from flattery. He tried to hide it with his glass of water. “Tsukki…”

“What?”

“That’s really nice,” he squeaked out. 

Tsukishima took a bite of his hamburg. “Tsk. Shut up.”

Even though Tsukishima uttered those words often, they actually seemed a little nicer this time. He was joking and there was a clear smile on his lips. 

“Sorry Tsukki,” Yamaguchi continued to dig into his food. Tsukishima’s kind nature fired up his appetite. Every bit he took tasted so much better than before. He hummed to himself as he finished his plate.

“Do you want some?” Tsukishima asked.  Yamaguchi looked over. “Sure.”

He was used to picking at his plate after Tsukishima pushed it towards him. But that day was different. The taller boy cut a piece for him and placed the fork in front of him. It was an invitation for him to take a bite. Yamaguchi gulped, then bit into it. Tsukishima was...feeding him? It felt so “coupley”. It's what lovey dovey teenagers did on their first date. 

“You seem happy,” Tsukishima teased, his expression soft.

Yamaguchi straightened his back. “I’m really happy.”

✦✦✦

The two first years returned to their dorm around 8PM. They ended up staying a lot longer than expected. They talked about everything under the sun — music; school work; stupid classmates; that time Nishinoya and Tanaka broke the ceiling fan; the afternoons they spent together; everything they’ve been through. It was comforting. But for some reason, Yamaguchi still felt uneasy.

When they got back, Tsukishima made coffee for the two of them. It was spontaneous too. Yamaguchi had just sat down on his bed, but Tsukishima was still up on his feet. 

“Isn’t it a bit late for coffee?” Yamaguchi asked. 

Tsukishima lowered his cup for him on the bedside table. “It’s decaf.”

“Oh…”

It was strange. Tsukishima wasn’t acting like himself. He was doing all these things for him out of the blue.

Something had to be wrong. Terribly wrong. Maybe Tsukishima was about to tell him that he had a girlfriend. Or a boyfriend. Or he’s going to move schools. _ Please don’t leave. Please don’t leave me.  _

Yamaguchi glanced over at him. Tsukishima was calmly reading his book on his bed. Like nothing was out of the ordinary.

“Why are you doing this?” Yamaguchi suddenly said. Tsukishima viewed him, completely stone faced. “Is there something wrong?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replied.

“We ate off campus, you complimented me at jazz band, and now you made me coffee,”

“I can’t do that?” 

“No, I mean yes. I like it a lot but,” he took a minimal sip. The coffee was sweet and milky; how he liked it. “It’s not like you. Why are you so different now? Did I do something wrong?”

Tsukishima sighed deeply. Then removed his glasses to clean it, before he let out a stinging and cold, “I don’t think I can be around you anymore.”

Yamaguchi stopped. The mug fell from his hands. He didn’t mean to. It just melted, then crashed onto the ground. It felt like his heart stopped. Disbelief, followed by a million excuses. Then he just stared at him with glassy eyes.

“What?” it was barely audible. Tears clogged his throat. His words sounded throaty. 

“Don’t make me repeat it,” he was ready to get up to clean the mess.

“W-Why…?” tears poured down his cheeks. They were overflowing. He couldn’t keep them down, no matter how hard he tried. He rose to his feet, standing in front of Tsukishima to stop him. “What’s the problem? What did I do? Have I done something wrong? I had to have done something wrong, right? I’ll fix it Tsukki I promise!”

“It’s not you,” he said firmly, still trying to snake beside him.

Though Yamaguchi stopped him every time. “Then what is it? Don’t leave, please.”

“Yamaguchi—”

“Please Tsukki. Please don’t leave. You can’t,” he begged. He grabbed his collar, holding onto it so tightly, he could barely feel his own hands. He cried into his chest. Tsukishima’s shirt became damp. 

“I treat you like shit all the time,” he yelled. Yamaguchi halted. His head was still buried in his chest. 

“But I don’t mind,” he peered up, his eyes bloodshot. 

“That’s the problem,” 

“I like you no matter what,” he clenched onto him, somehow tighter than before. And with every word, he was standing higher and higher on the balls of his feet. “You’re smart, you're confident, and you’re so funny. You’re good at basically everything and everyone looks up to you. You’re caring deep down, even if you don't want to show it all the time,” he gushed. But it left bittersweet. “You’re perfect.”

There was a pause.

“You idiot…” Tsukishima sniffed. Before he realised it, he was crying too. Tears ran down his cheeks, one by one. He bit his lip. “ _ You’re _ perfect. You’re loyal, dedicated, everyone likes you...Stop thinking you’re any lesser than that.”

The hands Yamaguchi used to hold him were now around his waist. Tsukishima was embracing him, propping his head on top of his. His chest felt so warm and secure. It didn’t matter how damp his cheeks were.

“I hate eating out by the way,” Tsukishima quipped. The cellist snickered. His laughter was muffled by the other boy’s body. “I hate eating out. I hate jazz band. I hate making coffee. But I noticed that it always makes you happy,” he parted just a bit so they could face each other. Tsukishima had a gentle smile on his lips. It wasn’t the forced one he showed the others. Or the smirk he brandished daily. Yamaguchi was the only one allowed to see it. “And I’m willing to sacrifice something like that sometimes just to...” he flicked the antena-like lock that perked up on top of Yamaguchi’s head. “...just to see your face...like that.”

“Tsukki…”

Yamaguchi stood at the very tips of his toes. It felt like he was floating. And in that moment, their lips touched for the first time. _ Fireworks. Literal fireworks. _ As if everything they’ve been through was leading up to that single moment. Tsukishima inhaled, embracing Yamaguchi tighter. He wanted to hold onto him forever. 

They parted. Their eyes lingered on each other. They saw each other every day since they were 7, but in that moment, it felt different. It was like seeing their past, present and future. 

Tsukishima felt like an idiot—he’d glossed over Yamaguchi for so long. Even though everything was right there in front of him since the very beginning. There was a part of him that always knew it, but he always pushed it down; push it down like he did with almost everything. But he was glad he didn’t with Yamaguchi. 

“So you're not leaving?" Yamaguchi asked, peering up at him like a little puppy.

"No," he ran his fingers through his hair. "I'll never leave."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoever guessed that Tsukiyama would have the first kiss at Karasuno, congrats. You're right :)


	31. Capriccio Diabolico

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kagehina take a day to go to the mall. RIP Kageyama

It was a comfy, warm Saturday morning. Both Kageyama and Hinata set aside their studies for the day (not that they studied all that much anyway) so they could finally hang out. Hinata had begged him for ages to go to that huge mall he'd seen a while back. And even though Kageyama didn't want to admit it, he was pretty excited to go too.

The bassist buttoned up his shirt, the thought of their relationship lingering in his mind. It was the first time they properly did something together that had nothing to do with music. Just the two of them, hanging out casually like classmates. Friends. Partners?

“That’s my vest idiot,” Kageyama groaned, about to rip it off of him. 

Hinata wrapped it tighter around him. “Mine’s in the wash!”

“You don’t need to wear one,”

“But I have a stain here,” he pointed at the large red spotting near his shoulder. It was partially Kageyama’s fault—they were fighting over a hamburg and Hinata accidentally spilt ketchup over himself. “And my other shirts are in the wash.”

“Argh, fine.”

Kageyama grabbed his wallet and closed the door behind him as they left. Hinata was smiling up at the sun, closing his eyes to breathe in the warm air. His steps were bouncier than normal.

“I’m so excited! I want to go to the arcade, oh and, I need more socks. I also want—!”

“We’re not even there yet dumbass,”

“I’m just looking forward to it,” he pouted.

It was a single bus and a five minute walk away. Honestly, Hinata was surprised that they hadn't gone earlier. 

Kageyama listened to his music on the way, and Hinata snatched one of his earphones to listen to it too. The bassist shot him a glare, but didn’t budge either. _He won't exactly complain about it_. Though he was also sitting a bit too close to him. Kageyama could feel his breaths on his shoulder, and his arm press against his. _God. Could he just...not?_

Sometimes he wondered what Hinata thought of him. The saxophonist was straight forward, stupidly blunt, and never thought before he spoke. And yet, Kageyama still struggled to read him. He couldn’t figure out how Hinata felt. Hell, he could barely figure out he felt either. But he did know that whenever he looked at him, it felt like the world stopped spinning. 

“We’re here!” Hinata speedily punched the button. 

They charged off the bus. Well, mostly Hinata. He was running with excitement like an excited kid, with Kageyama following behind him, trying to match his pace. The mall was thankfully air conditioned. Kageyama was on the verge of dying. 

“We should get those,” Hinata said, pointing over to matching t-shirts. It was underneath a brightly lit storefront that instantly caught their eye. 

"We’re not getting matching shirts,”

Hinata flicked through the hangers, pulling out a small and a medium. “Why not?”   


“That’s tacky,” he complained, knitting his brows. Though there was a tiny part of him that liked it.  _ What? It’s a cool font.  _

“I saw Suga-san and Daichi doing it the other day!” he put it in front of Kageyama and looked into a mirror. The shirt looked great on him, Hinata thought. 

“But they’re dating,” Kageyama did the same to him. 

“They are?”

“They’re not?”

“I thought— _ oh look at that! _ ” Hinata darted over to another t-shirt. One with slanted musical notes printed on top of a navy background. “This is cool.”

Kageyama hummed. “Yeah it is.”

“I wonder if there’s a medium for you,” he looked through the lot.

“We’re not—” but when he laid his eyes on his own size, he took it into his hands. “We’re getting it.”

They ended up getting the matching pair. Alongside a couple of jeans for Kageyama and another top for Hinata. The taller boy complained that Hinata had way too many shirts that he never washed, but the other just rebutted it, saying that he doesn't have time to do laundry. Even though Kageyama knew for a fact he had time (they were literally together all the time. He knew).

“I didn’t think you’d buy that,” Hinata said, pointing over to his shopping bags. 

“What? Clothes?”

“No, the matching shirt,” his smile was stretched from ear to ear. “We’ll look super cool when we rock up to orchestra wearing them.”

“No, we’re not doing that,”

“But we’ve gotta do it before Yamaguchi and Tsukishima,” Hinata whined. 

“Four eyes would never do that. Wait. Why _would_ they ever do that?”

He stared in disbelief. “They’re dating now.”

“What? Since when?”

“Yesterday,” Hinata whipped out his phone. “See?”

Kageyama squinted as he read through the text messages. 

_ *YAMAGUCCI*: HINATA HINATA _

_ *YAMAGUCCI*: TSUKKI AND I ARE TOGETHER! _

_ THE BEST SAXOPHONIST: REALLY _

_ *YAMAGUCCI*: YES _

Kageyama scrolled down further.    


_ THE BEST SAXOPHONIST: did you guys… _

_ THE BEST SAXOPHONIST: you know... _

_ *YAMAGUCCI*: yeah _

_ THE BEST SAXOPHONIST: :O _

_ THE BEST SAXOPHONIST: you guys kissed?! _

_ *YAMAGUCCI*: yeah :D _

_ THE BEST SAXOPHONIST: LUCKY _

_ THE BEST SAXOPHONIST: I could never get that far _

_ *YAMAGUCCI*: I’m sure you will soon ;) _

“Lucky?” Kageyama asked. “Get that far?”

Hinata’s face flushed, then he quickly recoiled his phone into his pocket.

“Hey I wasn’t done!”

“The rest isn’t that important,” he awkwardly laughed. 

Kageyama straightened out his back, then cleared his throat. “You like someone?”

“No,” he lied, his expressions thinned.

“You’re lying,”

“How do you know?”

“Your face looks dumb,"

“Well maybe,” he tucked his shopping bags closer to his chest. “Maybe I sort of do.”

“Who?”

“I’m not telling,” 

“Why not? I probably don’t even know her,”

_ Her. Right. Her. _

“O-Oh look it’s the arcade!” Hinata was trying to regain his usual spunk as he trotted over to the chaotic gaming corner. Neon colours, chattering, button mashing and a constant ringing noise. “I want that cool orange thing!”

He was trying to avert attention to the claw machine. Hinata put in 100 yen and immediately started playing it. Kageyama, on the other hand, could barely pay attention. For some reason, everything looked a little more blurry than before. And a stinging feeling of defeat grew in his chest. 

“Do you wanna give it a try?” Hinata asked, scooting over.

Kageyama gave a small nod as he took over the controls. His right palm wrapped around the stick while his left fingers were hovering above the buttons. 

“Get it! Get it!”

“I’m trying, idiot,”

“You’re too far to the left!”

“No I’m not! It’s right on top of it!”

“This one?”

“Yeah, that one,” he jabbed his finger into the glass, and used his other hand to press the button. The claw scooped down, grabbing the very top of the stuffed tangerine. 

“YES!” Hinata clapped, immediately grabbing the toy. It was softer and squishier than he imagined. 

“I told you,” he groaned. He tried to avoid his gaze. Hinata just looked so...stupid(ly cute) with the stuffed orange. They were virtually the same thing. _Well shit._ Now he couldn't stop thinking about how soft Hinata's cheeks would feel. "You can have it.”

“Really?”   
  
“It’s stupid anyways,”

Hinata frowned. “It’s not stupid. It’s a cool prize you got with talent and hard work. That makes it extra cool.”

Kageyama widened his eyes. It was overdramatic, and yet it made sense to him.  _ I guess that’s true.  _ He stared down at the orange plushie.  _ It’s pretty cool after all. _

“You better get me one to make up for it,” Kageyama joked. 

Hinata brightened. “Sure!”

He was (not surprisingly) pretty bad. Hinata would recklessly turn the knob, one leg kicked up as if he was trying to get a better angle. And Kageyama would frustratingly look on, shouting at him and trying to snatch the knob for himself. Until Hinata finally won the milk carton squishy. Then he finally settled. 

"There you go,"  Hinata handed it over to his roommate, a bright grin on his lips. 

Kageyama caved into his soft expression. He loved it. He would never tell him. But he loved it so much he could barely contain it. He squished it in his palms, over and over, feeling the sensation between his fingers. He bit down on his lip.

“Do you like it?” Hinata asked him.

“I-I…” he gulped. “Shut up idiot,”

“No fair!” he pouted. “I made it up to you! And you love milk!”

“I mean…” he glanced away. “I do…s-shut up.”

Hinata’s eyes scanned the arcade. _This kid really couldn't sit still_. He constantly jumped from one thing to another. Looking for another thing to jump and shout about. And weirdly enough, Kageyama sort of liked it now. It brightened up his life a little more. 

“What if we go into that photo booth?”

"...sure."

Hinata dragged him by the arm to the closest photo booth. Pop music was blasting from the inside, which was made worse when Kageyama stepped inside. The bass was virtually punching him in the face. 

“Come on! It’ll be fun!”

The shorter boy pressed the screen, and dropped in 2 100 yens. Kageyama did the same. The screen lit up. The shorter boy began tapping on the screen, picking all the backgrounds and photosets.

“No. Choose the blue one,” Kageyama bumped him and clicked the screen.

“It’ll look good with this one.”

They shared a little laughter. The bassist felt a little more comfortable to do so now. Especially with him. Hinata pressed against his side as the camera shuttered. Kageyama’s face was clearly a little flustered, and the photo filter made that a lot more obvious.

In the second one, Kageyama felt the urge to wrap his arm around him. The camera shot a picture with Hinata glancing up at him in surprise. His face was now pink too.

In the third one, Hinata eased into a smile. And the two boys looked at each other lovingly. A shutter.

Hinata was inching closer and closer to him in every photo. Their lips curling into a smile. Their gazes knitted together. Kageyama could barely breathe. Both his arms were now around the other boy. He was tucked underneath his chin in an embrace. The final shutter.

When he blinked, it was over, and he couldn’t fully comprehend what just happened. Kageyama stared down in slight disbelief. Hinata was comfortably resting in his arms, his eyes closed, like he was absorbing every inch of it before it was over.

“Uh…” Kageyama muttered. “It’s...over.”

“Huh? What?” Hinata leaped apart in a flustered state. “Y-Yeah! Let’s get the photos and stuff...yeah.”

The taller boy coughed. “...yeah.”

✦✦✦

The two boys slumped onto a table in the cafeteria, food in hand. It was fairly busy since it was a Saturday. Children were running around. Families were trying to settle them down. Other teenagers were loudly chatting. 

“What did you get?” Hinata asked over. He took a giant bite of his strawberry and cream crepe. 

“I got the banana chocolate one,” he answered, taking a smaller nibble of his own.

“Can I try it?”

“No,” he recoiled the crepe closer to his chest.

“Please,” he pleaded. 

Kageyama rolled his eyes. “ Fine .”

The shorter boy leaned over and bit down on the crepe. It was richer but just as sweet as his own. “That’s good!”

“I know, that's why I got it,” he said, shyness sprinkled along his cheeks. 

Hinata looked down at his own. “Do you want to try mine?”

“...yeah…”

Kageyama, despite burning with embarrassment, leaned in and took a bite of Hinata's crepe. His eyes widened. 

“That’s good,” 

Hinata gave a toothy grin. “I know! We should come here more often.”

“Except we’ve gotta work harder in orchestra,” Kageyama reminded him. “The Spring Festival is getting closer and we’ve planned to do so many pieces together as well.”

“True!” Hinata kicked his legs. “I’m excited! Music makes me so excited.”

“I know, idiot,” despite his words, he chuckled a little. “You don’t exactly hide it.”

“Did you listen to the new piece I sent you?” he asked.

“Yeah. It’s good. It has a technical bass part and an expressive melody. I’ve just gotta transpose it,” he said, finishing off the rest of his crepe. 

“Woah thanks! I'm excited to play it,” there was a little moment of silence between them as Hinata pondered. He piped up out of the blue, “Hey, do you think I’m a good player?”

“No,” Kageyama jumped in sarcastically.

“Hey!”

“What?” he rolled his eyes. “Okay fine, you are. You’re getting a lot better. You’ve got a good tone. You have a solid core. Your musicality is pretty amazing. Your ability to pull off any polyrhythm is insane. And I guess your technique is getting better. You’re not as good as me though.”

“Hey!” he frowned. “We’re in the same orchestra now, but when we’re not, I’ll beat you.”

Kageyama smirked. “Try your best. I doubt you can,” his playful tone made Hinata grin too. “But in the meantime, we make a good duo.”

“You think so?” the saxophonist asked. Kageyama was seemingly always so cold to him. At least, when they talked. When they played though, it was a completely different story. They’d share glances, they’d often smile, and it was like they could feel each other’s presence when they played. It was a connection he hadn't felt before with anyone else. 

But even nicer, was the Kageyama that stood in front of him in that moment. He was smiling at him, genuinely. And he was nice. Really nice. 

“I know so,” he replied confidently.

Hinata’s cheeks hurt from his smiling. “I know so too!”

“You better be sure,” he joked. He didn’t want to admit it, but his cheeks hurt a bit too. "Because you're hard to rely on."

“Hey! That’s not nice,”

“I’m never nice,”

“You’re sometimes nice. You tie my shoelaces sometimes; and always go through sheet music with me; and you taught me how to read chords.”

“Yeah I guess,” he shrugged. “I guess it’s because I like you.”

“You do?”

“Well, uhh,” he fiddled with the rest of his rubbish. God, he hated it when Hinata looked at him like that. He looked so... _ stupid _ . “No.”

“But you just—”

“No I hate you, you idiot,”

“But you literally just said—”

“No.”

The shorter boy tucked his chin towards his chest. Kageyama was expecting a sudden outburst of excitement for the next thing he noticed (he wanted to talk about something else already). Or blabber on about how annoying Kageyama could be too. But Hinata’s energy seemed to simmer. 

He mumbled, “Why do you always pretend to hate me?”

“Because,” Kageyama muttered. “Feelings are lame.”

“You sound like Tsukishima,”

“Argh, don’t say that,” he shook his head. “Sorry though. I do like you,” he said it without any hesitation. Point blank. Kageyama uttered it like it was a simple fact, and yet Hinata wanted to crumble when he heard it. Maybe shout  _ ‘why have you never told me this before?!’  _ “You’re talented, funny and can pick up skills quickly. You’re dedicated and passionate. Also you make friends quickly, and everyone likes you. That’s cool. It’s one of the coolest things I’ve seen.”

“Kageyama…” he was genuinely thankful to hear it. The usually stoic and cold Kageyama wasn’t exactly the best at giving compliments. But in that moment, he was listing things like he’d rehearsed it before. And Hinata was hanging onto every word. He didn’t expect it from him. At all. Kageyama even surprised himself.

“S...sh…” his lips were like jelly. “...sorry. Sorry I never say it.”

Kageyama’s soft expression and the slight blush by his cheeks made Hinata’s chest flutter. His back awkwardly straightened and gulped. He wanted to burst into a huge ‘thank you’ like he always did, but for some reason he couldn’t. 

His roommate just looked...different. In that moment. And in the moments following too. And for the rest of that day. Hinata didn't know what exactly changed. But he knew for a fact that he could see his future in his eyes. 

✦✦✦

Hinata yawned, stretching out his arms as he let out a tiresome, “Today was great!”

The two boys had returned to their room after a long day at the mall. Empty shopping bags were stacked up near their desk; new clothes were lazily hung in their closet; and the two boys were collapsed on their own respective beds. 

Kageyama felt his legs go numb. He was so exhausted, he could barely get up to get his stuff together for his shower.

“Can we do it again?” Hinata asked, flipping himself over to face him. “I want to go into all the stores! Especially that one with that really cool pattern at the front. Oh and also—”

As Hinata blabbered on, Kageyama just longingly gazed at him.  _ When did he start to look so...sweet?  _ His over the top gestures and animatic face grew to be more endearing rather than blood boiling and annoying. Hinata was fiery, passionate just like him, and yet more fun and goofy which was something he lacked. And now he admired.

“Yeah,” Kageyama agreed, much to the surprise of Hinata. More surprising, was the smile on his lips. “We should go out again. Together.”

“Together?” the other boy blinked. There was something ominous about the way he said it. 

“Maybe…” Kageyama started as he sat up. He swung his legs over to the side of the bed as he shifted himself closer. His eyes missed Hinata’s. “...maybe we should be...you know?”

“I don’t get it,”

“Like...be,” he fumbled with his hands uncomfortably. He’d gotten himself into the mess without thinking, and now he couldn’t get himself out of it. “Together...I guess.”

“Together? But we’re already always together,” he replied. 

“I,” but the urge to continue had slithered out of him. He bit on his lip and retreated back to the confines of his bed. “Never mind.”

“No what? What is it?”

“It’s stupid,” he dismissed. “We  _ are _ already together all the time. So like...I mean,” Kageyama shook his head. Then abruptly began to gather his things for the shower room. “I’ll be back soon.”

“Wait, let me get my stuff too and—”

“No,” he stood his ground. Hinata stopped. “I’m gonna go alone.”

Hinata watched him speedily exit the room, not even staring back once. But he couldn’t help but to just tip his head to the side with visible confusion. Kageyama had jumped from one mood to another in a heartbeat and Hinata still had no idea why. Or what he meant. 


	32. Norfolk Rhapsody

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hinata makes...a bit of a mistake.

Orchestra rehearsal was coming to an end and all the musicians began to pack away their things. The days were becoming a tad cooler again, making every rehearsal feel a little fresher. Hinata imagined cracking a cold ice tea from the vending machine with Kageyama on the way to the practice rooms (who of course, chose milk every time). They had jazz band rehearsal right after this. Tuesday rehearsals were always shorter, which gave them time to practice pieces other than the orchestra ones they picked for the spring festival. 

Ukai Sensei cleared his throat. The students halted.

“I’ve got some exciting news,” he said. Ironically, his voice didn’t seem particularly enthusiastic. “Nekoma contacted me today and said they wanted to see us again. So luckily for us, we’ve been invited to the Tokyo Band Camp.”

“Does that mean we can go to Tokyo!?” Tanaka shouted, springing to his feet. 

“Yes. Now sit—”

“Can we go to Tokyo Tower!?” Nishinoya jumped up, his whole body about to burst with excitement. 

“Sure. We’ll be spending a few days there so you’ll be free to explore Tokyo on the third day,” the conductor explained. “We'll leave on Friday and arrive in the afternoon. Day 2 will be rehearsals and it’ll give you the opportunity to interact with other musicians from Tokyo. And finally, we’ll finish with a concert on the night of day 3. We’ll be leaving shortly after. Keep in mind this is over the winter break. We’ll be back by New Years but don’t plan on going back to your families when the term ends.”

Hinata couldn’t wait. His mind bumbled with everything he’d possibly want to do while he was there—blast his instrument in front of all those Tokyo kids; perform on a big, big stage; practice with other musicians; see Tokyo tower; walk through the city with Kageyama. There was no way he could sleep. 

Daichi raised his hand. Ukai Sensei gestured for him to talk. “Which piece will we be performing?”

“I’m glad you said that because there’s a little catch to the band camp,” he said. Intrigue filled the air. “Since it’s usually set in Tokyo, most of the schools are reluctant to give away their repertoire, so they have a little system. They only play Jpop songs.”

The orchestra stared. Partially from confusion. Partially from disbelief. Suga piped out a small. “...jpop?”

“Yes. They’re quick to learn and easy to play but they’re still entertaining and it helps us focus on other aspects of music like tone colour, dynamics and balance,” Ukai Sensei shuffled his papers around on his stand, revealing a folder underneath. “This is the piece we’ll play. The melody is easy but don’t underestimate it. Pop music, particularly Jpop, is hard for other reasons.”

Hinata was handed his own part. He briefly looked over it.  _ Kiseki _ . He was well aware of the song. It was one of the most popular jpop songs to come out. It’s not like he knew it inside out, or knew all the lyrics, but virtually all of Japan was aware of it. 

The piece itself wasn’t hard at all. He only had long tones, with nothing shorter than a crotchet. The phrases were almost nonexistent. Heck, it was in C Major and only 90 beats per minute. To be honest, kids could probably play it. 

He was confused as to why it was chosen. There were definitely harder jpop songs out there. Some really pushed the boundaries in terms of pop music. But Ukai Sensei chose something...so normal. It was clearly different from Western pop music (or any pop music around the world) but it was still so typically “Jpop”. The same four chords. The same key. The same upward melody in the chorus. 

“Most of you listen to Jpop, right?” Ukai Sensei asked the room. Everyone nodded. “So why do you think Jpop is good?” 

A third year raised his hand. “The melody is catchy.”

“Good. What else?”

A second year answered, “It has an easily identifiable structure. Like A melo’, B melo’, A, B. C then B repeated.”

“Good good. But I’m looking for the most important part,” he said. Kageyama’s hand stretched up. “Yes?”

“The lyrics,” the first year said. “Jpop lyrics are always good.”

“Can you explain it a little more?” 

Kageyama gulped. “...Uh…” his mind fumbled for anything more he could say. He wasn’t the best at...explaining. Anything, for that matter.

Sugawara answered for him. “It’s poetic. They convey certain emotions that we, as the listeners, relate to. When we hear these songs, we all want to sing along.”

“You hit the nail on the head,” he grinned. “Jpop is popular for a reason. There’s a reason why we sing 3 gatsu 9 ka at graduations, and Tsubasa wo Kudasai in primary school, and why everyone knows Sekai Ni Hitotsu Dake no Hana. They’re easy to sing, they’re catchy, but above all, they convey what we feel through song. The problem is, we don’t have the lyrics to depend on when we play this. So the obstacle of ‘Kiseki’ is going to be conveying emotions, even without words. Just through your playing,” Ukai Sensei began packing away his things, which allowed the students to scatter. “The assignment for this week is to look up the lyrics to the song, and figure out what it means to you. You’re all dismissed.”

_ Kiseki _ . It means fate. The fate of meeting. The fate being bound together. The fate of falling in love. But it also means a narrow road; as if you’re walking down this path together. Hand in hand. 

“Ah shit,” Kageyama grumbled, patting his hands over his pockets. 

Hinata had walked over to him on his way to his bari case. “What’s up?”

“I forgot my pencil case in the classroom,” he hastily gathered his things. “Shit I’ll be late to jazz.”

“Hey, I’ll take your bass for you,” Hinata suggested.

He looked over in confusion. “Can you even lift it up?”

The saxophonist’s face ballooned with anger. “Of course I can! I’ll show you! Give me your bass!”

“I’ll let you hold it when it’s in the case,” he said reluctantly, dreading the thought of this tiny tangerine carrying this giant double bass across the school. He was either going to break it, or it was going to topple forward and crush him. Either way he wasn’t going to like it. “You better not break it. Or lose it. Or break it.”

“You said break it twice—”

“Because you can't fucking break it,”

“Language,” Suga intervened in passing. 

“I won’t!” Hinata tried to reassure him. “It’ll be fine!”

Kageyama hesitantly handed over his bass case, which had wheels at the bottom so he could manoeuvre it better. Hinata had the tough job of carrying both their instruments, but he was still glad that Kageyama trusted him enough to handle it. 

“I’ll see you there,” the taller boy waved as he exited the hall.

“Yeah! See ya!”

✦✦✦

It was Hinata, Daichi and Suga waiting in the hallway. There was a pianist rehearsing inside the main music room, so they were forced to wait for a few minutes. Though it was good in some ways as it gave them some time to breathe in between rehearsals.

Tanaka and Ennoshita ran back to their room to fetch their music, whilst Nishinoya and Asahi were still outside talking. The hallway wasn’t particularly big and the three of them were cramped as it was.  As for Tsukishima and Yamaguchi, they supposedly went off to buy something in the vending machine (though they were gone for quite a while). 

“Kageyama seemed a little off today. Did something happen?” Daichi asked. Hinata had noticed it too, but he was surprised that other people were even paying attention. 

It was the small movements that gave it away—his nose scrunching; his fingers fumbling a little more than usual; and his bow strokes were quieter. The most obvious thing was how he struggled to formulate sentences. It was like something else was on his mind at all times, which took away the effort needed for everyday things. 

“Yeah, how did you know?” Hinata said, his hands crossed behind him as he learnt against the wall.

“I sit in front of him in the orchestra. His playing was just a little softer than usual so I figured,” he answered.

“Now that you mention it, I noticed that his expression seemed a little sour today. More than usual,” Suga added. 

“He was a little weird last night,” Hinata mentioned. “We went out to the mall and it was super fun! But then we got back, and he said something and I was really confused. Then after that he was just acting weird and now he won’t even look at me properly.”

Daichi hummed. “What did he say?”

“He said something about _“being together”_ ,” the two band captains immediately caught on. They eased into amused smiles, but continued to listen regardless. “But we’re already always together so I don’t know what he means.”

“Oh Hinata,” Suga started, placing a hand onto his shoulder. “Kageyama obviously likes you.”

“Well I sure hope he does! We’re roommates after all,”

“No, not like that,” the clarinetist pondered on whether he should play it vague so Hinata could fill in the gaps, or he outright say it. He chose neither. “Kageyama, well, likes you like—” Hinata was hanging onto every word. “Like... _ Daichi _ ?”

“Right,” the other captain stepped in for him. “Kageyama wants to be in a relationship with you.”

At that moment, the door opened up and the pianist snaked out. The two band captains grabbed their instruments and headed inside. But Hinata stood frozen in place, blinking. His mind was blank. Then it took him a moment to regain feeling in his legs, his arms, his neck. 

“So you think that...Kageyama…?” Hinata couldn’t find the right words for it. He fetched his case and dashed inside. “You know?”

“Well from the sounds of things,” Daichi said. 

They continued to unpack their instruments casually. Partially because they knew this was coming anyway. It was pretty obvious. Right?

They walked together. They were in class together. They shared a room. They practised together. They studied together. And now, they went shopping together.

You could say that friends did this too, but there was another thing. It was their expressions when they were talking about each other that gave it all away. Kageyama's stoic look would melt into a flustered grin. And Hinata would burst at the seems with excitement whenever Kageyama got brought up. 

Everyone knew Kageyama and Hinata liked each other. Except Kageyama and Hinata apparently. 

“What should I do?” the youngest boy panicked. “Should I say yes? Am I supposed to say yes?”

“It depends. Do you like him?” Suga questioned.

“Yes! No? Yes. Probably,” he stammered. He couldn’t even zip open his case. His fingers felt too fragile. “But what if things get ruined? I heard my classmate say that dating your roommate would make things weird. I don't want weird!”

“Well…” Daichi’s eyes glanced over to Suga, then back at him. “...I suppose?”

“I say, follow your gut Hinata,” the other band captain advised. “If you really like him, it might be worth pursuing it. You know yourself better than anyone else.”

“I guess—”

The door suddenly bursted open. Low and behold, it was Kageyama, with sweat running down his forehead and his pencil case tightly in his hand. 

“Did I miss anything?” he panted, trying to catch his breath as he stumbled inside the practice room.

“No,” Suga lied sweetly. “Not at all.”

“Hey Hinata, where’s my bass?” he asked, cracking his neck from side to side. 

Hinata gasped. “I left it out there.”

Kageyama poked his head through the door. Then looked over with a raised eyebrow. “Well it’s not there.”

“What?” he ran to the doorframe and peeked out. He looked in both directions. _Wait. What? No. No. No._

“Where. The. Hell. Is. My. Bass?” Kageyama punched the wall, his knuckles red. His eyes were deathly toxic. Hinata shrivelled under his gaze.

The bassist could feel every inch of his body ache. His thighs tensed. His forehead pulsed.  His insides were begging to boom out from his chest. 

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to—!”

“I gave you my fucking bass. Now where the hell is it?!”

“I don’t know! I swear it was out here I—”

“This is why I can’t trust a fucking idiot like you!”   


Daichi ran up to them and shoved them apart. “Woah, hey,” both first years leaped apart. “Calm down Kageyama. It was just a mistake. We’ll look for it now, okay?”

Kageyama scrunched his face, but stopped himself and caved into a sigh. "...fine."

✦✦✦

They ended up looking all afternoon for it. The first place they headed was the lost and found. They couldn’t find anything there. No one had apparently come in weeks. Then Hinata ran to the hall, just to find it empty. Then back to the practice music room, where the other two first years remained as they practised. Jazz rehearsal was called off because of him. Kageyama’s bass was missing because of him. And worse of all, he was pissed off because of him. Hinata couldn’t forgive himself for it. 

So he searched harder than anyone else. He ran around the school at least six times, checking every inch of the place until his legs gave out. But he found nothing. And he wasn’t even close to knowing where it could’ve gone.  _ Who would steal a bass? Seriously? _

It was around 7:15PM when Hinata stumbled back to his room. He couldn’t feel his legs anymore. When the adrenaline was pumping through, he didn’t notice it, but now, he could barely stand on his two feet. He immediately collapsed onto the floor of their dorm. It was where Kageyama was stretching before he went off to bed.

“I...I’m sorry,” Hinata mumbled, trying to at least sit on his knees. “I couldn’t find it anywhere. I looked! I really did—”

“It’s fine,” he cut him off. Though it was barely audible since he was gritting his teeth. “We’ll look for it tomorrow.”

“It’s not fine! I’m sorry! You trusted me with your favourite thing in the world—”  _ it’s not _ . “—and I just lost it. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, it’s fine,”

“I’m sorry Kageyama. I—”

“Hinata,” he began, finally meeting his eyes. But when he gazed at him like that, Kageyama just recoiled. “Shut up and go to bed.”

He was cold. Colder than usual. That was the first time he even cared to look at him all day. And it wasn’t even the banter Hinata had grown used to. 

He crawled into his bed and wrapped himself around the blankets so Kageyama couldn’t see the pitiful tears rolling down his face. _Argh,_ he probably looked like such an idiot. He didn't even know why he was crying. Because he didn't want to upset Kageyama? Because Kageyama couldn't trust him anymore? Because he wanted Kageyama to love him? 

Hinata didn't really know. And he frankly didn't care. He just wanted to find that bass. 


	33. Ai no Katachi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some shit happens. I don't know how else to describe this. Also a little Iwaoi in there too.

_ “Tobio-chan?” _   
Never in a million years did Kageyama think he’d do this. He was on top of the wide staircase leading to Seijou’s main building; their gates by his feet. The grandiose entrance parted for him, and he nervously entered. He didn’t want to be here. He couldn’t even stand properly. But he did it regardless.

Oikawa and Iwaizumi were in front of him, their stances wide and threatening. Maybe territorial.

“It’s 7AM so this better be important,” Oikawa said, scanning him up and down. 

The first year had texted him the night before, begging to talk to him. Oikawa teased him, then left him on read. But Kageyama just kept pressing. So he ended up agreeing to see him at Seijou the next day. Though he still had no idea why. 

Kageyama’s hands tightly knotted into fists. “I-I need…” he took in a sharp breath. “I need your help.”

Oikawa bursted out into laughter, clutching his stomach as he ran over and viewed Kageyama’s pale state. “You’re kidding right? As if I’m going to help you, Tobio-chan. But I get why you would ask, I mean,” he pumped out his chest and gave a smirk. “If I was you, I’d want to be me too.”

“Oikawa,” Iwaizumi scorned, slapping the back of his head. 

His partner cowered, “Iwa-chan!”

He ignored him, then looked over to the first year. “What do you need?”

“I like someone, and I don’t know how to say it,” he mumbled. Embarrassment felt like acid, eroding everything inside of him. He felt like puking. 

And even though he wanted to just turn around, walk away, and pretend that Oikawa didn't exist, he really saw this as his last hope. They were the only people who were far enough from Hinata for this to be a secret, but also wise enough to know what they're talking about. Well, at least they had be, right? They were together after all.

“It’s okay Tobio-chan,” Oikawa placed a hand onto his shoulder. Kageyama widened his eyes. “Whoever it is, there’s no way they’ll ever like you back.”

Iwaizumi harshly kicked him. Oikawa went flying. 

“Okay well,” Iwaizumi stepped forward. “Do you know how they feel about you?”

Kageyama pondered. “No…”

“Does that make you nervous?”

_ “It should because they’ll never love you!” _

“Shut up Crappykawa!” 

The first year shivered at the thought of it. Confessing. “Yeah, it does.”

“I see,” Iwaizumi hummed. “I honestly think telling them is the best option. Keep it straightforward and honest.”

“But I can’t stop feeling so  _ argh _ . I get nervous, then I forget how to talk, then I get mad at myself because I can’t say anything,” he vented, stomping his foot. 

_ “Boring!” _ Oikawa called. He brushed off his pants then began walking away. “Let’s go Iwa-chan!”

Iwaizumi ignored him, and continued to face Kageyama. “If you like them so much, you’d be willing to sacrifice your embarrassment.”

Kageyama jolted back. Iwaizumi’s comment struck him straight through the chest. He hadn’t considered it before, but it made sense. _ It made perfect sense. _

_ “IWA-CHAN!~” _

“Thank you,” Kageyama politely bowed, partially because he needed to hide his bright face. 

“Good luck Kageyama,” there wasn’t a visible smile, but both knew that it was a genuine gesture. "Can I ask who it is?"

The younger boy gulped. "Hinata."

"Ah, I thought so," he nodded. "Tell me how it goes. Either way, I'm sure he likes you back."

Iwaizumi began walking away, but Kageyama had stopped him for one last question. “...I just wanted to know..." he pinched his jacket. "Why are you helping me?” 

“Well,” he glanced over to Oikawa, who was already so far away, he was barely visible. “I’m just glad you’re not going after him anymore.”

“W-What?” Kageyama straightened up. 

“I’m not an idiot. I’ve seen the way you look at him for years. Even now, you chose to talk to Shittykawa of all people," he grumbled. He couldn't help but to feel a _little_ jealous, though he tried to remain as neutral as possible for the first year.

"I..." he trailed off. "He likes you though. Very much."

"I know," 

There was a little silence between them. 

“It’s because I—”

“Admire him. I know,” Iwaizumi cut him off. “Just don’t touch him. Again.”

Kageyama gulped.

_ “IWA-CHAN! LET’S GO!!!” _

The third year softly grinned, “I'll see you later then.”

He followed him deeper into campus; far enough so Kageyama couldn’t see them anymore. He then sighed, turned around and quickly returned to campus. One thought burned into his mind. 

He needed to tell Hinata. He needed to them him how he felt. 

✦✦✦

The truth was, Iwaizumi never fully got over that night. That one night in middle school. Their orchestra had stayed at a hotel for a concert in Osaka. The set up was more like a large apartment, with smaller rooms linked to a shared living room and kitchen.

Kageyama stayed with Kindaichi and Kunimi which was the room next to Iwaizumi and Oikawa's. 

The cellist always knew that Kageyama had a thing for his senior. The way he longingly gazed at him from afar. The way he trailed after him before, during and after practice. The way he intently listened to each and every one of his words. He never seemed to care that Oikawa wanted nothing to do with him. If anything, it reeled him in even more.

Even so, Iwaizumi was shocked to find Kageyama in his room at the middle of the night. Iwaizumi felt a pounding in his chest, and as if it was a reflex or some sort of psychological tether he had to Oikawa, he suddenly sat up. Only to find Kageyama leaning over Oikawa, his lips hovering above his. The violist was asleep.

For a moment, Kageyama and Iwaizumi's eyes locked. Neither knew what to say. The shock cemented them in place. He didn't want to shout or make any sudden movements, so he sat in his bed until Kageyama shuffled back to his room. They hadn't talked about the incident. 

Actually, no one knew about the story. Not even Oikawa. Iwaizumi never saw a point to bringing it up, but it was something that had lingered on his mind for years now. 

_"Oi? Are you listening?"_

Oikawa frowned, waving his hand in front of his eyes. The two boys were seated at a bench on the outskirts of Seijou campus. 

"Uh, yeah," Iwaizumi's eyes fluttered open from a half sleep. "Sorry, I'm sort of tired."

The other band captain sighed, "It's because you stayed up last night."

"I had a nightmare," he blurted out.

Oikawa's eyes widened a little from his honesty. "What happened?"

"You...left me."

The violist gave a little smile, shuffling over to rest his head onto his shoulder. "I never will."

Iwaizumi held onto his hand. "Yeah...I know."

✦✦✦

Hinata had spent all day looking for Kageyama’s bass. Before classes, in between classes, then afterwards. But he couldn’t find it. And he was nowhere near as close to finding it anywhere.

He trotted back to his room, his feet dragging behind him. He felt defeated. He couldn’t even look at himself in the mirror. He let Kageyama down, and that thought alone ruined him. 

Hinata turned the doorknob and entered to find Kageyama on his bed, fiddling with his thumbs.  _ He was clearly upset about the bass. He had to be. I mean, look at him _ . Hinata instantly felt like crying.

“I can’t find it Kageyama,” he said, his lip quivering. 

“What?” he gazed up at him, his eyes turned downwards. _ Oh no he’s upset. He's so upset.  _

“I can’t find your bass anywhere,” his shoulders felt heavy.  _ Should I start begging? Get on my knees? _

“Umm,” Kageyama blinked, then pointed over to the large black case resting against the wall. It was where it always was. 

His double bass.  Hinata gasped, then ran over, putting his hands over it. He was in complete disbelief. “Where? What? How?”

The saxophonist noticed a little note attached to the zipper. 

_ I didn’t know who’s case this was. You should definitely put a name tag on it, Kageyama!  _

Hinata recognised that it was Suga’s writing. It was neat, pretty, and easily recognisable. 

“But I’m sorry for losing it in the first place,” Hinata said. 

_ Luckily Nishinoya found it in the hallway. He wanted to hand it into lost and found but didn’t know where it was so he got lost on campus. Typical Noya.  _

“Idiot,” Kageyama mumbled. “It’s not the instrument. I have, like, four other double basses at home.”

_ Eventually I found it and I checked inside. I saw that photo so I knew it was you. But please put a name tag on it from now on.  _

“What?”

“It’s what’s in the case.”

Hinata peered inside and found the set of pictures from their photo booth. The two of them, smiling like idiots and standing ever so close to each other. Kageyama’s arm wrapped around his shoulder. Hinata peering up at him like he couldn’t focus on anything else.  _ Almost like a couple _ . 

“Kage…?” he couldn’t finish his name.

“See?” he lifted himself to his feet. “It’s fine, so—”

“No,” Hinata abruptly cut him off. Kageyama stopped. “I let you down. I lost your instrument and you trusted me.”

“It doesn’t matter!” he felt anger bubbling inside his chest.

“But it does!” the shorter boy argued. “How are you gonna trust me as a partner if I’m not reliable!”

“I trust you no matter what!” 

He stepped back. Hinata wanted to accept it, he really did, but a feeling of guilt lingered. Kageyama was the last person in the world he wanted to let down. They were the bass section together—the back bone of the orchestra. But even more than that, he was his friend; his partner. 

Hinata raised his fist in front of them. "You trust me...no matter what?"

Kageyama knocked their knuckles together. "No matter what."

He eased into a smile. "...no matter what..."

"And maybe even..." h e thought over what Iwaizumi had told him earlier. And he felt it. That urge to just push through the embarrassment. Swallow his pride because Hinata was worth it.“ ..forever...?”

Hinata tipped his head to the side. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,”  _ breathe Kageyama. Breathe. Just say it _ . “Like, we should...trust each other—no—be together—no—uhhh... ”  _ fuck. Go back. Go back. Go back _ . "Forever...?"

He blinked, then gave a long ‘ooh’. “Do you want to be with me?”

Kageyama grumbled.  _ Fuck Hinata. Stop staring. No. Don’t look like that. No. Stop it. Argh _ . Hinata’s eyes were wide and rounded, as if he was waiting patiently for Kageyama’s answer.

“...fuck it.”

Kageyama flung his arms out and immediately trapped Hinata in a tight squeeze. He couldn’t find a single word he wanted to say. But he could show it. And he used everything in him to hug him and hopefully never let him go.

“Kg...Kg!” Hinata’s shouts were muffled against Kageyama’s chest. 

“Shut up Hinata you idiot! Hinata you’re such an idiot! Argh you’re just an idiot!” he rambled, still holding Hinata tightly in his arms. “You idiot! I like you so much! I don’t care if you lose my instrument. I still trust you, you stupid idiot! And I'll trust you forever!”

Hinata resisted against his embrace, and he pushed just enough so he could peer up at him. Kageyama was much taller than him, and it was really obvious when they were this close. “Really?”

“I trust you, no matter what.”

He immediately hugged him back. The two boys were completely wrapped together. Hinata was caught up in the messy bundle of limbs. But he didn’t care. Happiness pooled inside his chest. Warmth was trapped within their embrace. He felt safe and secure. And in turn, Kageyama felt as if he never wanted to let him go. He wanted to stay like this forever. Have Hinata in his arms.

“So do you...you...you know? Want to be with…?” Kageyama mumbled, his lips quivering.

Hinata brightened, somehow even brighter than ever before. “Yeah!”

Kageyama’s eyes nearly watered. He instantly brought Hinata closer to his chest, kissing the top of his forehead.

The shorter boy giggled, jumping up to wrap his arms around Kageyama’s neck. He could just reach when he was on the top of his toes. They both bursted out into laughter as they toppled over onto Kageyama’s bed. Fit of chuckles, exchanged smiles and unspoken words. 

_ God. If you’re really out there.  _

He crinkled his eyes shut, letting the built up stress escape his body. As if he was finally at peace for the first time. 

_ Thank you. Thank you for letting him be mine. _


	34. God Save the Queen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A chapter set in Seijou. A bit of Iwaoi for our gay hearts.

Oikawa stood on the podium. It’s where he tended to be, particularly now that they edged closer to the spring festival. 

“Makki!” he shouted scanning his music. “Can you quiet down in bar 34? You’re just a bit too loud compared to Mattsun.”

The Seijou orchestra was hanging onto every last word. They’d quickly jot down the corrections the moment Oikawa said it, but sprung back up in case they missed the next one. He was their fearless leader after all. The ruler. The king. And he knew what he was doing.

Oikawa flicked through the sheet music. It was almost entirely covered in scribbles for every instrument. He could barely see the notes underneath. “I think that’s about it. Work on the 2nd piece for the next rehearsal. It's our toughest one. You’re all dismissed.”

Iwaizumi grabbed his cello by the neck as he walked over to Oikawa. The latter was staring down at his own part, particularly over the viola solo, as he etched away the old corrections so he could write new ones.

“Your fingers are red again, you idiot,” he said, reaching over to the few bandages he had in his pocket. 

The violist grinned. “You care about me Iwa-chan?”

“Dumbass,” he rested his hand on top of Oikawa’s, and he dropped the pencil. He let Iwaizumi take his hand as he wrapped up each individual finger. “Don’t...don’t push yourself so much.”

“Thanks Iwa-chan,” he checked out his newly wrapped fingers. They were just tight enough to fit, but loose enough to be comfortable. Iwaizumi always knew how to bandage them. He had the exact shape, feel and tightness memorised. “You know, kissing them will make me feel better.”

Iwaizumi gave a deep sigh before he took them into his palm and pecked Oikawa’s knuckles. The violist immediately burned. His face flushed a deep red as he jolted back. 

“I-Iwa-chan!” he stammered, running his hand over his knuckles. 

“What?” he groaned. “You asked me to.”

“C-Can you kiss me on the lips then?” his usually confident demeanour washed away for something a little sweeter. 

The cellist grumbled, then softly grabbed his chin. He leaned in to give a small peck on his lips. 

“Iwa-chan!” Oikawa’s face burned with shock and embarrassment. He could barely feel anything else. 

“Well? Let’s go,” the other band captain mumbled, a little flustered himself. “You said you wanted to go rest on those hills, right?”

“You remembered,” he smiled, trailing after him. He was always the confident leader, but when his partner was around, he let him take charge. 

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes. “I always do.”

✦✦✦

There was a serene and hilly area at the back of the campus. It was always refreshing, dewy and fresh, though most students refrained from going since it was so far out from the rest of the buildings. At that point, the sun was almost set, so the grass was an orangey hue. 

The two Seijou musicians sat in the midst of the emerald grass. It was virtually just them. Nothing else was visible. 

Oikawa leaned back onto his hands, wincing a little as he did so. 

Iwaizumi quickly took notice and looked over. “You’re overworking your hand.”

“Aw do you care about me Iwa-chan?” he put a smile on his face, but as he gripped his own hand, he crumbled at how frail they were. How weak, so broken. He hated it. “Well I appreciate the love but—”

“I’m being serious,” he was basically glaring at him. Oikawa froze. “Ease up a bit, okay?”

He gulped. “Okay.”

“I mean,” Iwaizumi grinned a little as he took his boyfriend's fingers and rested them on top of his palm. “You don’t want them to break. You are going to be a professional musician after all."

“I don’t want to,”

Iwaizumi crinkled his brows together. “What?”

“I don’t want to be a musician,” Oikawa repeated. He said it as a simple fact, though it was virtually unimaginable for Iwaizumi. 

“Then what  _ do _ you want to do?”

The two were set on becoming musicians ever since they were little. It was one of the most significant things that bound them together. They each had that shared goal in mind and they were willing to fight anyone to get it. They had no idea whether they’d be together when that dream was to happen, but they knew they’d have each other’s backs regardless. But now Oikawa was sitting in front of him, with their shattered, shared dream in his hands. 

“I want to be a conductor,” Oikawa answered.

“So you’re gonna abandon your viola?” Iwaizumi asked.

“In the long run...yeah,” 

There was a bit of silence between them.

“Are you gonna stay in Miyagi?”

“Probably not,”

“In Japan?”   


“I...I want to go to Europe actually,”

“When were you going to tell me this?”

“It’s not like I was hiding it…” he mumbled, playing with his hands. They were trembling. Oikawa knew that he would eventually need to talk about this with Iwaizumi. But he was avoiding it ever since he knew for sure. “But I didn’t want you to stop me either.”

“I wouldn’t ever stop you, you idiot,” he harshly spat. He didn't mean to sound as cold as he did. But he was plain frustrated. It made him want to scream. “If it’s your dream, I won’t ever stop you.”

“Come to Europe with me,”

“I’m not going to. I want to stay here.”

That's when they realised it—it would be the first time they wouldn't be together. They virtually grew up together. They've seen each other grow out of clothes; go through weird phases; enjoy guilty pleasures. Watch each other barely pass tests; helplessly slump onto their bed; cry into their pillows from defeat. But they've experience the highest of highs together, from seeing each other's first solos when they were 10; getting band captain together; all the way to  when Iwaizumi asked Oikawa out onto an embarrassing, messy date that neither would ever forget. 

They had inside jokes, shared memories, and feelings that no one else could understand. Or even fathom. They were intertwined together with a red string. 

“Iwa—”

“Don’t say anything stupid and sentimental Crappykawa,”

“I’m not,”

Another silence.

“I just wanted to say that I’ll miss you,”

“You idiot,” he clenched his first. He couldn't cry. _No. It's not a sad moment._ “I’ll miss you too. We’ve never been...separated...not together...living this far away from each other....I guess.”

“I believe in us though,” Oikawa tried to remain positive. 

“But we’ve never been  _ this _ far apart. You’ll be hours away, and in different time zones and—”

“We’ll make it work,” he cupped his hand over Iwaizumi’s knuckles and held onto him tight. “We’ll call everyday, we can eat dinner together, you’ll be in every part of my life.”

Despite Oikawa’s enthusiastic grin, Iwaizumi reluctantly snaked his hand away. He pulled himself back, until there was a small gap between them. “I don’t think it’s going to work.”

He felt his heart break. The cracking rang in his ears. “But…” Oikawa gulped. “I can’t imagine my life without you.”

“I can’t either. But  _ Europe _ ?” he shrugged, his shoulders feeling heavy. “I don’t know if we can do this one. And I never use the word  _ ‘don't’ _ .”

“I have faith in us. In you.”

Oikawa slapped Iwaizumi’s back. Extremely hard. A little gasp escaped the cellist’s lips as he slowly let it sink in. The aching. Then the pain. He felt tears bubbling at his throat. Iwaizumi grasped onto the grass harshly as he gulped.

“You idiot,” he drew out harshly.  _ Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t— _

Oikawa lunged towards him and pressed their lips together. Iwaizumi toppled backwards, and the other boy followed until he was hovering above him, only holding himself up by his elbows. 

The violist gently moved a strand of Iwaizumi’s hair, lovingly gazing into his eyes. He was somehow breathtaking from that angle too, with every one of his features more visible. The etchings along his face. The bumps and smoothness. That slight twinkle in his eye when he gazed up at him. 

He leaned down and pressed another kiss by his lips. “So don’t leave me Iwa-chan.”

Iwaizumi cupped his hand around the back of Oikawa’s head. His fingers entangled with his thick hair. “I won’t. I won’t ever.”

He inhaled into another embrace. He couldn’t lie; he wanted Oikawa to be with him forever. For him to stay in his arms and kiss him. He had grown accustom to their shared mornings. Oikawa would make tea in the morning for the two of them. Then a peck. Iwaizumi would comb his hair for him, showering his forehead with his kisses if he was particularly happy. And the two would listen to the radio softly until it was time for breakfast.

He wanted things to stay in their little bubble forever, but he knew that he couldn't hold him back. Oikawa wouldn’t be the same without his passion, his determination and his resilience. The last thing he wanted to do was hold him back from his dreams.

"You know what this means, right?" Oikawa whispered. Iwaizumi gulped. "We've gotta have phone sex now."

He pulled a face. "Ew no."

"Iwa-chan!~" he pleaded, reeling him close to his chest. Iwaizumi could feel his fast heartbeat. He felt is pounding against his ear. "Please."

"Argh," he groaned. "Fine. But don't expect me to get off to your annoying voice."

"You don't last that long anyways Iwa-chan," 

"Coming from you," he snarled. "Remember last night?"

Oikawa sputtered in a flustered state, "Shut up!"

He twirled a strand of Oikawa's hair. "You were such a mess."

"No I wasn't," 

"It was so hard to clean everything up. Hopefully you're not like that tonight."

The violist gulped. "...tonight?"

"Tonight...and probably tomorrow morning as well,"

"Oh?" he bit down on his lip. "Let's see how long you'll last then." 


	35. A Fantasy on Motifs of Giuseppe Verdi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hinata and Kageyama sneak into the Shiratorizawa concert.

Hinata crossed his legs then spread out his sheet music across the bed. _Kiseki_. They had practised it a few times but he still couldn’t figure out what made it so great. It was just a simple Jpop song. Easy melody. Repetitive phrases. Predictable structure.

He remembered what Kageyama said. It’s the lyrics. They’re what’s great. He fetched his laptop and quickly looked them up. 

_“Tomorrow I’ll fall in love with you somehow more than today_

_I can’t stop these overflowing emotions_

_Even though I love you so much_

_I can’t put it into words”_

It was how he felt, in some ways. Feelings he couldn’t describe but he could feel bubbling inside of him. It reminded him of that moment with Kageyama. The moment he embraced him. That fizzling feeling on his lips. Clenching his jaw. The way his cheeks hurt from smiling so much. 

_“Whether our meeting was coincidence_

_Or fate, just the fact that I met you_

_Is a miracle”_

Hinata had never believed in much. But when he saw Kageyama in front of him, it felt like they were supposed to be together. Their complimentary playing styles. Their harmonising laughter. To how Hinata slotted underneath Kageyama’s chin. They were two puzzle pieces that fit together. 

_“We walk close together_

_Making our eternal love tangible_

_I want to always be smiling by your side”_

He could imagine it. Them. Together. On stage. The blinding lights. The cheering audience. Though everything sat still the moment Hinata looked over to him. And saw him smiling back. It would feel like nothing else mattered. It was just the two of them, standing on stage, looking into the abyss. 

_“Thank you” and, “I love you”_

_Just aren’t enough, just at least let me say_

_I’m happy”_

_I_ _am_ _happy_. _Especially when I’m with you_. Hinata always loved music—the way it felt when he blew through his instrument, that aching through his fingers, that tightness in his cheeks. But everything somehow felt even better when Kageyama was next to him. When he closed his eyes and leaned back, he could feel the firm bass pressing against his back. It let him play without any nerves. Why would he be nervous? Kageyama was right next to him after all. 

Kageyama opened the door after his morning walk to find Hinata crying.

“Oh my god,” he rushed to his side, brushing past the sheet music to comfortingly hug him. “Are you okay?”

Hinata blinked, his eyes glassy. “Yeah.”

“What happened?”

“I just really like you,” he sniffed, trying to catch his tears.

Kageyama froze. _Why did Hinata have to look so cute when he was crying too?_ “I...I like you too.”

“Kageyama!” he cried, throwing his arms over him. Kageyama stumbled to the ground, Hinata toppling on top of him. 

The taller boy’s face burned. Patting the top of his head, he shoved Hinata’s face down so he wouldn’t have to look at him _like_ _that_. “L-Let’s get ready. We have a concert to go to.”

Hinata pouted. Then nodded.

✦✦✦

Kageyama never got tired of wearing a suit. It’s classic. It’s chic. And it made him look like a professional. 

Hinata stood in front of him, proudly doing Kageyama’s tie for him. 

“Where’d you learn how to do that?” the taller boy asked, his eyes glued on his boyfriend’s bright smile. _Boyfriend_. He loved that. 

“Suga-san taught me,” he grinned, smoothing it out. “He said that it makes Daichi really happy. So I wanted to know too!”

Kageyama smiled. “Well I...I...like it too.”

The two of them escaped at 10PM sharp. It was around the time where most students went to bed since it was a weekday. Not that either boys cared (it’s not like they paid attention in class anyway). It almost felt like a spy movie; the way they tiptoed down the hallways, snaked to the entrance, and scanned the open area. You never know, a teacher could pop out of the dark. Or a third year could bust them; just like that. Hopefully not Daichi. If Daichi spotted them, they’d be dead.

“Where are you two going?”

They froze. Every limb turned to cement. Then slowly turned their heads.

Asahi was staring at them with confusion, with Nishinoya latched onto his arm. Like they were in the middle of something but stopped in their tracks.

“Why are you out here?” Asahi asked.

“Why are _you_ out here senpai?” Hinata questioned back.

The two older boys awkwardly chuckled, looking to each other for support. “Well, uh, we were just—”

“Hanging—”

“Hanging out,”

“Yeah hanging out,”

Hinata blinked. “It’s 10.”

“More importantly,” Asahi cleared his throat. “Where are you two going? You’re clearly dressed up.”

“Uhhh,” neither first years knew what to say. Let's be honest, they couldn't have made up a good excuse anyway. 

Noya caught on. “Are you going to the Shiratorizawa concert?”

“What?” the flutist snapped. “That’s not allowed.”

Asahi shivered. He didn’t want to picture Daichi’s face. He would’ve literally killed him if he found out that he let these two first years go. Not only were they out of their dorm; but they were leaving campus; and going on a bus; and worst of all, they were going to a rival band’s concert. And if they were caught? _Oh man_ . _Oh God, if you’re hearing this, please_ —

“Have fun!” the second year waved.

When Asahi shook his head, the first years were gone. 

“No, no. Noya. We can’t just let them go,” he panicked. ‘ _We should start organising the funeral’—_ he thought—‘ _I want the white roses and be buried with my flute’._

“Why not?” he innocently looked at him, his eyes wide and round. 

“It's against the school rules! And plus, Daichi and Suga are gonna get upset,”

“They don’t need to know,”

_“Need to know what?”_

_No._

_No._

_It can’t be._

Asahi trembled. Then slowly but surely turned his head to the right. _Oh_ _God_. Both Suga and Daichi were right in front of them, towels hung over their shoulders and a drink bottle in hand. _Goodbye world._

“What’s wrong Asahi? You look sick,” Suga asked, approaching him. 

“Ah, nah, nope, I-I’m good,” he reassured, sweat beating down his face.

“It is a little cold out here,” he said in a motherly tone. He scanned Noya up and down, the second year’s face cemented in an awkward expression. “Maybe we should head back to our dorm.”

“Actually, why are you two out here?” Daichi raised an eyebrow, his hands on his hips.

Asahi glanced at Noya, who was frozen in a half smile. He sighed, “It was my fault. I asked him to come out because I was nervous about the Tokyo concert.”

“Ah,” Suga hummed. Despite Daichi’s confusion, he caught on immediately, and lunged over to his partner to reel him away. “Just get back to your dorm soon, okay? We have class tomorrow.”

“I will,”

“Goodnight you two.”

When the two band captains disappeared into the night, the other two finally inhaled. 

Noya pursed his lips. “I’m sorry you had to take the blame.”

The younger boy over dramatically bowed, clearly flustered. Asahi just laughed. “It’s fine Noya.”

“Because it’s my fault.”

Noya _was_ the one that asked for them to meet outside. The second year couldn’t sleep and the only thing he could think of was Asahi. He had been helping him practice almost everyday. Going over bars with him, getting him tea, and always encouraging him with kind words. Though he saw him everyday, it just made Noya yearn for more.

“It’s okay,” Asahi placed a hand onto his shoulder. “I wanted to see you.”

 _‘I don’t get it”_ —Noya thought— _’Why do people think he looks scary? He looks so…’_

The second year suddenly rose to the tips of his toes, pecking him lightly on the cheek before he rushed away into the dark.

“Goodnight!” Noya’s shout echoed.

Asahi clutched his cheek—one that was burning now—and smiled. 

✦✦✦

Kageyama and Hinata sat in the middle of the crowd. The hall was absolutely packed. It was hard to believe—Shiratorizawa had their own hall, held their own individual concert and people actually came to watch them. _They must be popular. Really popular._

“Look! Look! Is that a bassoon?” Hinata excitedly pointed to the winds section on the stage. The orchestra hadn’t started playing yet, but many of the instruments were resting on the chairs. 

“Woah they have—” Kageyama counted. “4 bassoons?! And 4 french horns?! _No_ _way_ —they have 5 euphos?! Holy shi—”

The lights began to dim.

“Ah! They’re starting!”

The room was completely black. Until a single shining light was casted onto the stage. The conductor stood right underneath it, a mic in hand.

“Thank you for coming to the annual Shiratorizawa concert,” the audience clapped. “We’re proud to play a wide range of pieces today. We’ll start with “A Fantasy on Motifs of Giuseppe Verdi” by Jay Bocook. We hope you enjoy it.”

The stage was lit up to reveal a full orchestra. There was an ocean of violins, a wall of cellos, a monstrous army of winds. It was bigger than any orchestra Hinata had ever seen. 

Their piece opened with a grand trumpet part. Like the gates to their palace were opening. But the chords are strangely dissonant. Despite the off putting nature, it’s undeniably strong. Like it’s impenetrable.

As the audience, you were being led by the music. You stumbled into the castle grounds. There’s an era of mystery with the way they played. Woodwinds and violins lightly ran up and down like they were light on their toes. Entertaining fairy lights almost, as they led you deeper into the tunnel.

Dissonant chords. Bam. Bam. Bam. Followed by a silence. 

The mood is slower now. It’s smooth, but it feels like you’re still heading towards a goal. But you still don’t know what it looks like. Slow and steady build up. 

There are a couple of false alarms. Once when the woodwinds do a sudden drop. Twice when the percussion rolls in. Thrice, when the violins jolt in.

Until it’s standing right in front of you. A grandiose paradise. Trumpets showing off their bells. Violins as far as the eye can see. And on top of it all is Ushijima. Shiratorizawa tweaked the piece slightly to strip everything back for him. And he looked like the ruler of everything.

With his baritone sax, which he easily wielded with his muscular arms, he blew out a rich, supporting tune. It didn’t have a trace of the tangy saxophone tone that most players had. It was strong, full and it filled the whole room. One saxophone. Alone.

That’s when the piece hit full force. It excelled straight through the clouds. Every note was so precisely set. You could hear every individual note in the run by every section in perfect unison. Robotic maybe. Mostly God-like. The preciseness of the orchestra was unfathomable. 

And it all seized with a wholly major chord.

A moment of silence.

You wanted to gasp but you couldn’t. Because it took a few moments to be transported back into your body after they led you to a whole new world.

Kageyama clutched onto Hinata’s hand. That’s how Hinata came back to reality. Though his mind still lingered on what he saw. _That cobblestone castle. The golden gates. That musical paradise._

✦✦✦

The concert went on for another two hours. They played a variety of pieces. From hard, chaotically put together pieces to a little more lighthearted yet still technical pieces. Shiratorizawa was...a powerhouse. To say the least. It seemed like they had every area covered. The dynamics. The phrasing. The technique.

Hinata and Kageyama lingered by the hall, unable to pull away and get themselves home. They wanted to stay. They wanted to learn from them. They wanted to understand how they get to... _that_. 

The boys were in mutual silence. In a state of wanting to yell and scream and shout so much from all the adrenaline, and yet stopping themselves as they realised how far they’ve got to go. 

“How? I mean how? What? Why? When? How?” Kageyama muttered into his palms, his back pressed against the wall. “When? Why? Who? How? What? Why? What? How?”

Hinata leaped to his feet, his face burning with adrenaline. “Let’s go practice! Oh! And before we leave I want to see Ushijima! And that crazy—!”

_“Can I help you?”_

_Oh_.

The two first years nervously craned their necks just to find Ushijima standing there. He was somehow grander in person. Broad shoulders, muscular arms, tall, a stern and cold expression. He towered over Hinata. He couldn’t comprehend that they played the same instrument. 

“U-Ushijima—!”

Kageyama shoved him aside and instantly bowed. “I-I’m Kageyama Tobio. A double bass player. We came here to watch your concert. It was very good.”

“That’s good,” Ushijima blankly said, his eyes glancing over to Hinata. “And you are?”

“Hinata! Hinata Shouyou! I’m also a baritone saxophonist,”

He raised an eyebrow. “You?”

Hinata straightened his back. “Yes!”

“But you’re tiny,” he deadpanned. There wasn’t a hint of sarcasm, or humour. He was just straight up confused. 

“It doesn't matter how tall I am! We're going to beat you no matter what!” Hinata proclaimed. Slightly because of his flustered state.

“How?”

“At the spring festival. It’s where Karasuno will—”

“Oh you’re from Karasuno High?” he asked. The two boys firmly nodded. “You know only one school can represent Miyagi, right?”

Again. He had no sarcasm. Just pure confusion.

"I-We're getting so much better!" Hinata shouted. "We're coming for you at full force!"

"Karasuno barely gets a silver," he replied. "I doubt that fact will change this year."

"We'll show you!"

Hinata’s face lit up with fiery excitement. He wanted to prove him wrong. That’s the only thing he wanted to do. Whip out his sax and play for the Gods. It’s something Kageyama knew instantly just by looking at him, because he could feel it inside of him too. That burning passion. 

_“Wakatoshi-kun!!!”_

A voice sang from the distance. It broke the tension. A figure emerged from the darkness. He was on the skinnier side, though with his large eyes and spiked up hair, you couldn’t miss him.

“Oh? Who are these fresh piles of meat?” he asked in a low tone. A smirk stretched across his lips.

“Karasuno High students,” Ushijima answered. 

“Mmm you here to check out the competition, hey?” he teased. 

Kageyama tightened his hand into a fist. “Yes!”

_God is that something you admit?_

“Well, how was it?”

“Incredibly intimidating,”

_Again. Stop saying that._

“Good. Then you won’t be surprised when we crush you into pulp at the spring festival,” he waltzed around animatedly. “You’ll be gutted alive when you hear Wakatoshi-kun’s heavenly solo.”

“Tendou,” the baritone saxophonist placed a hand onto his shoulder. There was a brief gaze between them, before he snapped to the first years. “We’ll see you then.”

And with that, the first years were left alone, their chests aching with what’s to come. They had more practice. More often, harder and for longer. They needed to do it together as well, to compliment each other and match each other’s strengths.

“Hinata,”

He looked over at him with a confident grin. “Kageyama.”


	36. Dardanella

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jozenji music festival with some Kagehina

The streets were overflowing with music. It was a lively, fun jazz piece that everyone could march to. The melody was bouncy like their steps. 

“Ah, the Jozenji street jazz festival,” Suga exhaled happily, his tenor sax strapped onto his torso. 

Hinata excitedly darted through the crowd. Everyone around him carried various instruments. It felt like a fare to him. He wanted to hear every single one of them. The sun shined down, reflecting that crisp, golden colour that he loved. It was refreshing and shot another boost of adrenaline through him.

“I wish we actually learnt this piece before we came.”

The boys laughed as they tried to pick up the melody by ear. It wasn’t too difficult, and it was free. It let them harmonise, play a fun countermelody and bop along as they walked down the street with the rest of the musicians.

Daichi had explained that it was an annual thing. They were used to watching the festival every year when they’d walk in front of the school, but this was the first time they were a part of it.

Though in actuality, he seemed a lot more happy when he was talking about....unlike now...when he was aimlessly walking around with two drumsticks and nothing to hit. He loved being a percussionist, sure, but there were definitely some cons. One of them, being the fact that he couldn't carry it around like the wind players. 

Actually, neither was Tsukishima who had to walk around with a tambourine, and Kageyama who reluctantly shook his maracas. 

Hinata let go of the mouthpiece and looked around. The houses around them had all their windows wide open to let the jazz seep in. Some kids were excitedly waving towards them. He gasped and waved back.

“I want kids,” he suddenly piped up.

Kageyama scoffed, his hands nearly letting go of his instrument. “What?!”

The other boys cracked up, Tanaka obviously laughing the loudest. 

“You're gonna get busy,” Tanaka cackled, nudging Kageyama.

He pressed his lips together harshly. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

“NO,” Suga interrupted, pushing Kageyama and Hinata apart. “You’re too young. No babies. You  _ are _ babies.”

“Calm down Suga,” Daichi laughed, patting his back. “But seriously. No kids.”

Hinata pouted. The rest of them chuckled at his innocent nature as they continued down the street. It was like every jazz musician in Miyagi was there. There was a long trail of people that circled around every street in the neighbourhood. From the smaller, quieter backstreets to the wider main streets. Musicians of various ages playing a variety of instruments, all playing together—there was something beautiful about that. 

_ “You,” _

Hinata awkwardly turned around to find a domineering figure staring down at him.

_ “U-Ushijima—!” _

His baritone sax was strapped to his torso, and it was literally about to crush Hinata. 

Suga nudged his way to the front to protect him. “Can we help you?”

When his eyes shifted to him, Suga shivered. He could feel his spine breaking. 

“Hinata Shouyou,” he uttered. “I see you play the baritone.”

The much shorter boy pinched his brows together. “Yeah. Yeah I do.”

There was a bit of silence between them as the other musicians circled around them. They were at a standstill. The tension between them was as thick as a brick wall. 

“I’ll see you at the spring festival.”

He joined the rest of Shiratorizawa, who seemed to march past them. They were in perfect sync with one another. And  _ God _ , their looks. The way they glared down at each and every one of them. Karasuno stood their ground, refusing to back down. 

Tendou gave an amused smirk, almost like a “game on” expression as they walked away. The boys looked at each other with the shared feeling of passion. A feeling of wanting to stop them in their tracks and face them right then and there. But really, there was no point. They weren’t ready. Plus, the spring festival was where it would all go down. That’s where the real battle was.

Daichi gave a deep sigh. “How do they know you?”

He knew the answer, but he wanted Kageyama and Hinata to fear for their lives. And they were. Kageyama gulped. “I..uh...it was Hinata’s fault.”

“What? No it wasn’t!”

“Did you two go to the Shiratorizawa concert?” Daichi emphasised every word slowly and deeply. 

The two first years sulked like obedient kids. Tsukishima could barely contain his amusement.  _ Please hit them. Please hit them. Please hit them.  _

“Don’t do it again. You two aren’t allowed to leave school premises after hours. You’re only in your first year. Especially on a weekday?” the band captain groaned. “You two are in so much trouble I swear—!”

“I think it’s actually good for them,” Suga said with a motherly smile. “They need a bit of experience and independence.”

“Suga,” 

“What? Daichi, we broke the rules too in our first year,” 

When Suga grinned like that, he couldn’t help it. Daichi just caved. “Fine. But if you two do this again, you’ll be on probation for jazz band.”

Hinata’s spirit fizzled. “We’ll never do it again! Ever!”

“Good."

✦✦✦

  
  


Hinata stretched out his arms, giving a satisfying yawn as he did so. “Today was so fun!”

Kageyama was sitting on his bed, trying to dry his hair with the towel. “It was. We should do something like that again.”

The two boys had gotten back from the shower room. The Jozenji street jazz festival had run over time, so the whole dorm was basically asleep. It was just the two of them. 

“I’m so ready for the next jazz concert! Or a jam! Or a—” the shorter boy rambled, excitedly jumping up and down in the middle of their dorm.

He laughed, and gestured for him to sit on his bed. “Okay, okay. Let me dry your hair.”

Hinata smiled a little at his kind gesture, and did as he was told. Crossing his legs, he shuffled back until he was tucked under Kageyama’s embrace. “Hey Kageyama?”

Kageyama tossed his hair with the towel as he smiled even wider. “Yeah?”

“Can you kiss me?”

He stopped, the towel dropping from his hands. He felt his back straighten, the nerves stabbing every inch of his spine. “W-What?”

Hinata blinked. “You haven’t kissed me yet.”

“W-Well,” he cleared his throat.  _ Stop looking at me. Stop looking at me _ . “You haven’t kissed me either.”

The saxophonist brightened. “That’s true!” 

Hinata grabbed Kageyama by the cheeks. Kageyama’s whole body caught on fire and he immediately ran away. He pouted and ran after him.

“You idiot!” his face completely red. “I-I mean I want to—no—wait. Like—stop looking at me like that!”

The shorter boy frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“What if,” he glanced away. “What if I’m bad?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know what a bad kiss is like. This is my first.”

Kageyama grinned a little. “...same.”

“We’ll be each other’s first then!” 

The taller boy rested his hand on top of Hinata’s head, and slowly slid it down. His orange locks were so soft. Almost like sand slipping through each of his fingers. Hinata crawled his way over to him. They were close enough to feel the tips of their nose.

“Kageyama-kun…” he muttered, tilting his head to the side. 

Kageyama swallowed, hard.  _ Don’t fuck it up. Don’t fuck it up. Don’t fuck it— _

He leaned in, their lips pressing together. It was gentle at first, like they were hesitant. But as they gazed into each other’s eyes, it was like all the nerves were brushed away. Kageyama held Hinata in his arms as they melted together.

They stumbled on top of Hinata’s bed, their fingers entangled together as Kageyama pressed on top of him. 

_ “Always the palm of your right hand, just the palm of my left hand _

_ Them gently clasped, I can feel only love”  _ — the song lyrics echoed in his mind.

Hinata smiled so widely, their kisses became a little sloppy. He laughed, cupping Kageyama’s cheeks as he tried to shimmy out of his grasp. 

“What?” Kageyama asked nervously, his cheeks burning. “Am I bad?”

“No, no,” the saxophonist snickered, biting down on his lip. “I’m just happy.”

He sharply inhaled, “I-I am too. I’m really happy.”

_ “I forget all about false courage and loneliness _

_ If I'm with you, I can be myself” _

He lowered himself again, their lips locking. Kageyama was beyond happy. He couldn’t properly describe how he felt. Why his arms were shaking. Why his chest was caving in. Why he couldn’t feel his jaw. But the lyrics in Kiseki were playing through his head. 

_ “We share everything, our joy and sorrow _

_ If I'm with you, I feel really alive” _

“I like you, I really like you,” Kageyama said between kisses. 

“Me too. Me too,” Hinata repeated through every single one, reeling him in even closer. They were completely sandwiched together, grasping onto every loose thread and gasping for air. 

_ “So I want to be by your side forever, my beloved, to the last moment” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god I'm so sorry for the lack of updates. I've been super duper busy but luckily, I've planned out everything for the rest of the series! So look forward to some drama, some fun and obviously some fun romance.
> 
> Missed you guys!~


	37. Die Winterreise d. 911

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The orchestra is getting ready for their Tokyo trip (next chapter). Kagehina fluff with jealous Kageyama. Also Daisuga...angst. Yeah. Our perfect couple is going through some turbulent times.

Kageyama rubbed his eyes and yawned, stretching out his arm to turn his alarm off. But instead, his fingers brushed up on the cold hard wall. He abruptly sat up, and scanned the room, only to find his actual bed empty.

_ Shit. _

_ Ohhh. That’s right. _

He looked underneath him to find Hinata still soundly sleeping. Hinata always slept through alarms when he was tired. Or when there was a test. He only ever sat up when there was a concert or early morning rehearsal.

The alarm stopped beeping after a minute.

Kageyama grinned, gently tracing his fingers around Hinata’s face. From his ginger locks, down to his soft cheeks. He couldn’t believe it. There was no way that Hinata was...his. His and his only. 

Hinata’s eyes fluttered open, giving a loud yawn.  _ He was so cute.  _

“Good morning Kageyama-kun,” he scrunched his face, cringing at the bright sun. 

Kageyama sharply inhaled and brought him into a tight embrace. “Good morning.”

The shorter boy blinked. “Kageyama? Y-You’re holding onto me really hard. I can’t breathe.”

“Oh sorry,” he let him go. But when he saw his adorable face again— _ oh God _ —he just wanted to hold him. “How’d you sleep?"

“Really good,” Hinata suddenly gasped. “You know what day it is?!”

He raised an eyebrow. “No.”

“It’s the day before the Tokyo camp!” he happily exclaimed, shuffling out of the sheets. Hinata was shirtless, only wearing an undone pair of pyjama bottoms.  _ Wait _ . Kageyama was more naked. That was something he failed to realise from how dark it was the night before. “You excited to go Kageyama?”

He stared at his bare chest.  _ Geez. Went a little overboard with the hickeys _ . “Yeah.”

“You don’t seem very excited,” he mumbled, taking his phone into his hands. Hinata’s eyes lit up a little as he typed.

“You're excited to see Kenma, huh?” the taller boy grumbled, kicking the blankets off of him. He grabbed the nearest pair of pants and quickly put it on.

“Yeah! Totally!” he gave a toothy grin. “We talk everyday! Oh! And he says that Nekoma’s coming with a really good piece. I’m so excited to hear it!”

“We’re going pretty well too…”

“Yeah! We’re gonna show all the Tokyo kids what’s up!” he said gleefully. 

Kageyama glanced away, running his hands down his neck. Hinata caught sight of him and just...froze. How toned his chest was. The way his jaw locked with jealousy. That aloof look in his eyes.

“What?” the bassist grabbed his duffle bag, reluctantly packing for the trip. He made sure to follow the "To-Do" list that Suga had given him at the last orchestra rehearsal. 

The two of them had procrastinated on packing for days. Not that it would take that long. Only a few sets of clothes and their wallet. It was a four day trip so they’d be back in no time. 

It was a little crazy to think that they were already travelling to Tokyo in their first year. And going to band camp of all things. It was so...cool. So exciting. Like they were already moving up in the music world. 

“I...uh…” Hinata shook his head. “You don’t seem to like Kenma much.”

“Oh? Really?” he sarcastically called. 

The shorter boy pouted, grabbing his very few clean shirts. “He’s my friend. I want you to like him.”

“Yeah, well, you like to talk about him way too much,” Kageyama complained. “You’re always like _ “Kenma likes video games”, “Kenma’s quiet”, “Oh Kenma is so cool and mysterious” _ . I don’t care! I don’t want to hear about Kenma and his stupid clarinet solo!”

Hinata innocently gazed up at him. “He's my friend. I keep mentioning the stuff he liked because I-I thought it would make you like him or something. You have a lot in common. I guess not.”

“Hinata...you idiot,” he grumbled, his cheeks a little flushed. “...you stupid idiot I don’t even like video games! We’re not alike at all,” he whined. “...plus, I bet he doesn’t like you as much as I do so…”

The shorter boy leaped to his side, trapping his boyfriend in a tight hug. “Thanks Kageyama!”   


“Shut up…” he mumbled, awkwardly placing his hands on top of his head. His fluffy bed hair felt like a cloud. “...you can say you like me too.”

“Of course I like you!” Hinata grabbed Kageyama’s cheeks and raised himself to the tips of his toes so he could peck his lips. “Are you jealous of Kenma?”

“Ew no,”

He gasped. “You are! That’s so cute.”

“I’m not you idiot!”

“You’re jealous Kageyama-kun!” he teased, clinging onto him. Kageyama stumbled backwards, falling onto his messy bed with Hinata tightly held on top of him. 

“You’re heavy,” he croaked. He could feel Hinata’s cheek against his chest. His hands at his waist. His knee rubbing against his—

“Do you want me to get off?”

Kageyama embraced him tighter. “No.”

✦✦✦

  
  


“I can’t believe we’re going to Tokyo tomorrow,” Daichi enthused, folding up his T-shirt. He tucked it into his duffle bag, which was already filled with everything he needed for the trip.

“I bet it’s going to be amazing,” Suga replied. He had already finished, with his belongings waiting for him for tomorrow at the entrance of the dorm. 

While Daichi was still busy getting ready, Suga was wandering around the room, as if in a daze. Going to Tokyo was a much needed break for the two of them. With exams, looking after the orchestra, and still maintaining a healthy mindset, there was a lot on their plate for their final year. It was like they were trusted to make sure that everything ran smoothly. 

Daichi leaned over to his speaker, turning it up slightly. The soft classical swelled, filling their room to the brim. You could hear the violins buzzing lowly throughout the room.

Suga smiled, pressing his hand against the speaker to feel the vibrations. He sighed blissfully. “Mmm I love this piece.”

The other band captain took Suga’s hand into his own, then cupped the other as he pulled him into a waltz stance. He smiled as he gently rocked from side to side. Feeling the weight shift back and forth, from his heels to his toes. 

“I’m excited to explore Tokyo with you,” Daichi sang along with the melody of the piece.

The two boys danced in the middle of their room. Suga was basically melting into Daichi’s arms, letting him glide them across the room. It felt like a real waltz; like they were dancing in a wide, golden ballroom. 

“Me too,” the clarinetist's eyes closed, feeling like he was floating. “Let’s go to that cute cafe we’ve always been talking about.”

“That chocolate one?” he asked. He wriggled his fingers, as if he was trying to remind himself that he was holding onto Suga. That his fingers were intertwined with his. That his head was resting underneath his. That he had him in his arms. “Of course we will.”

He peered up, a grin by his lips.  _ He’s so close _ . When Daichi inhaled, it was all Suga. Everything he saw was Suga. Everything he could feel was Suga. And it’s all he wanted. He closed his eyes and leaned down, the gap between them dwindling. 

But something stopped him. A finger, pressing on his lips. He opened his eyes to find a flustered Suga trying to edge away from his embrace, and blocking Daichi’s advances with his pointer finger.

“Daichi…” he muttered out, shuffling away. He couldn’t meet his gaze. “I...can’t.”

The usually calm and collected Daichi felt the urge to just scratch the back of his head, embarrassed and dismiss it right away. But he didn’t. He just felt...anger. It ached inside of him. “Okay. What the hell?” Suga jolted back from surprise. “We do everything together already anyways. Why can’t we just be together?”

Sugawara bit down on his lip. “Daichi we’ve talked about this.”

“But I want to be with you Suga,” he stepped forward, reaching out.

“We made a promise to be together when we get to Nationals,”

“Who cares? I said that in the heat of the moment,” he blurted out. “I didn’t actually mean it.”

Suga huffed, clutching onto his chest. “So you don’t care about Nationals?”

“Yes! No. I don’t mean it like–”

“I care about our orchestra,” the clarinetist didn’t expect his eyes to be this glassy, but it was like his chest was pierced by a million shards. “Those kids come first.”

“What about me?”

Sugawara paused. The only thing left was the gentle buzzing of the piece, which still echoed in the silence between them. 

“I care about you too,” he said, his voice low.

“But you’ll always put them over me, right?”

He clenched his hands into fists. “Daichi. We both know our role in the orchestra. We never put ourselves over them. It’s about everyone, not just us.”

“Not even this once?” they were standing further and further apart. It felt like there was an invisible wall between them. “Being together doesn’t mean we’ll fail.”

“But I’ll lose something to work towards,”

“...so you’re using me as a way to motivate you?” Daichi’s voice cracked. “The end goal is still...Nationals?”

“Yes! No.  _ Daichi _ ,”

“It’s fine,” he faltered back, trying to find the strength to stand up right. “I get it. Forget what I said. Let’s go back to what we usually do.”

“Daichi—”

He brushed past him and straight out of the room. Nothing about where he’d go. How long he’d be gone for. Nothing. Suga was left alone with nothing but regrets. He wished he had said something else. Articulate himself a little better. But then again, he felt off about Daichi’s answer; about wanting to put himself over the orchestra. That wasn’t like him either. He was so used to their dynamic working all the time. They had never just...crumbled like that. 

The song crackled and seized. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Thanks for reading thus far. The story is going to be kicking in soon enough. More angst, more gay shit, more chaos as we progress through the Tokyo arc (which is a little short), working towards the Spring Festival, and finally, the grand Spring Festival.
> 
> Hopefully it's all up to your expectations haha.
> 
> Now I pose a question for y'all"
> 
> _Q: what's your favourite ship in this fic?_
> 
> Thanks~


	38. Chorul Fantasy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A pretty long chapter of Karasuno getting to Tokyo. It's the start of the Tokyo Band Camp Arc *gasp*.

“Check that you have everything you need. We’re not coming back for a few days,” Daichi said, counting heads as each musician hopped onto the bus. 

It was the day that everyone was looking forward to. The day they travelled to Tokyo. Musicians were ushered onto the bus, their luggage in hand. Smaller instruments could fit in the overhead compartments but all the bigger instruments had to be stacked away underneath. Which was good actually, since the bus was stuffed to the absolute limit. 

Students ran from seat to seat, trying to find the best seat in the house (they mostly argued about which side of the bus would see Tokyo Sky Tree). Others were just yelling and chanting. And of course, the middle was already littered with bags. 

“Make sure you have your instruments!” Suga advised.

They were the last two to get on the bus. They hadn’t talked since the night before. Suga ended up sleeping before Daichi got back to their room. And by the time he woke up, Daichi was already gone, making sure to go on a walk to refresh his head for their band camp. This was basically the first time they’d properly seen each other.

“Daichi…” Suga started, approaching him reluctantly. He timidly held onto his clarinet case, not really knowing whether he should look at him straight in the eyes.

“What is it? We need to get in before the bus leaves,” he replied, about to hop on. He didn’t look at him. Instead, he was focused on what was ahead. Everything that was to come.  _ That’s what they had to do after all. Nationals was the main goal, right? _

“I…” he stopped himself. “Did you pack enough clothes? I saw that you forgot to pack that white t-shirt you like to wear.”

_ Yeah, it’s the white t-shirt you got for me when you went to Nara _ —he thought, swallowing hard. “Yeah I have enough.”

“Oh…” silence pooled between them. 

They always seemed to have something to talk about. But in that moment, it was uncomfortably silent. 

“Daichi I—”

“Don’t,” he snapped. Suga stepped back. “...apologise. Let’s just focus on this band camp. The orchestra comes first.”

The clarinetist gave a little gasp, before sinking back in defeat. “Yeah. Okay.”

They brushed past each other as they hopped on the bus. Inside was absolute chaos. First years fighting over the back seats. Second years throwing things and screaming at the top of their lungs. And the tired third years who needed to study. Both their eyes landed on the two free seats at the front of the bus. The only free seats.

_ This was going to be a long ride. _

“Everyone quiet down,” Daichi groaned. No one listened. “SHUT UP! EVERYONE SIT DOWN!”

The bus fell silent and the students rushed to their seats. 

_ Finally these stupid kids listen to me.  _ Looking after a family of 45 was a tiresome job. And he  _ really _ didn’t get paid enough for this. 

“It’s a four and a half hour drive and we’ll have a couple of stops on the way. There’s only one bathroom on here so don’t do anything stupid. I’m looking at you Tanaka and Nishinoya,”

“We haven’t even done anything yet!”

“I will literally throw you off the bus if anyone does anything stupid.”

He was haunted with flashbacks of what happened on their last trip, which was the spring festival a year back. When the second years were playing sardines a bit too hard and nearly popped the glass off the side of the bus.

Kageyama and Hinata were at the back, sharing headphones as they listened to the long list of songs they had planned the day before. 

“Oh gross,” Tsukishima commented, looking behind them. “Why does the Prince have to drool like that when he’s with the tangerine?”

“I’m not drooling!” Kageyama grumbled. 

“Also I’m not a tangerine,” Hinata barked.

“Come on Tsukki,” Yamaguchi gently chuckled. “I’m happy for them. Look at how cute they are.”

Tsukishima gave a reluctant look and caught a glimpse of Kageyama’s protective arm over Hinata’s shoulder. 

“Ew I wish I hadn’t,” he hissed. 

“Tsukki,”

“What?” he shrugged. “You’re so much cuter.”

Before Yamaguchi could fully cave into his overwhelming blush, Kageyama interrupted with a hasty. “Gross~”

“Tsk,  _ you’re _ gross,”

“No you’re gross, idiot,”

“Can you widen your vocabulary prince? It’s starting to kill my brain cells,”

“I’m not a prince!”

Yamaguchi chuckled, “Guys, guys, come on.”

The two boys huffed and pulled apart. Tsukishima pressed his back onto his chair, walking his fingers over to Yamaguchi’s hands. The shorter boy gasped, then squeezed back. 

✦✦✦

They got their first break around 2 hours into the bus trip. It was at a little pit stop with a range of small restaurants and vending machines. Kageyama cracked his neck and stretched out his arms as he exited the bus.

“Kageyama-kun can we get ice cream?” Hinata came running after him, nearly tripping over his own feet.

“Only if you share it with me,” he joked. Their arms linked together as they approached the centre.

“Don’t try anything sketchy Kageyama,” Suga warned, taking Hinata’s free hand.

Kageyama straightened his back. “I-I’m sorry...ma'am? Sir?”

“Hey, come on Suga. Let the kids have fun,” Daichi commented.

The third years shared a small grin, but then instantly lunged apart, as if the awkwardness from before had caught up to them. Suga hurried away like he was going to look after the first years. While Daichi lagged, wanting to reach out but feeling no confidence to do so.

Asahi watched in slight confusion, matching Daichi’s somber pace.

“What happened?” he asked. “You’re a little off today.”

“Ah, it’s nothing,” Daichi replied, trying to smile. Though it ached to do so. 

“Is something wrong with Suga?” 

He sighed, “No. There’s something wrong with me.”

Asahi comforted him with a firm hand on the shoulder. "No such thing. Whatever it is, you and Suga will get back together soon enough. Every relationship has its bumps."

Daichi shivered. _Relationship._ He snaked out of Asahi's grasp with a chuckle. "Suga and I aren't together."

"Oh," he mumbled. "Sorry, I thought, like, it was an unspoken...sort of—"

"No, no," he forcefully laughed. "Never. No. Well maybe soon. Hopefully soon. You know. But no."

He shrugged. "Either way, I know that you're an important person to Suga. He loves talking about you, and he cares about you deeply. Anyone can see that."

"Except for me...apparently,"

Asahi sighed. "I don't know what's going on, but if you really like him, you'll fight to keep him. Or have him, I guess."

"Yeah..." the thought lingered on his mind. Them. Together. That smile of his—it was worth fighting for. Despite the pressures. Despite the anxiety. Despite the fight. "Mmm, thanks."

And with that, Daichi upped his speed a little. 

✦✦✦

Hinata walked outside of the bus and was instantly hit with that Tokyo air. He wheeled his instrument from underneath the bus and stood side by side to it. The tall buildings. The rushing cars. The busy streets. _This_ was Tokyo.

“Nishinoya! Tanaka!” Daichi yelled, pulling the two second years back. They were about to storm into the auditorium, their sleeves rolled as they showed them that “Karasuno spirit” as they called it. But Daichi couldn’t handle another fire. Not again.

“Okay everyone gather around,” Suga waved everyone down. The students eventually all stood by him. “It’s getting pretty late so we’ll head off to dinner somewhat soon. Don’t forget to introduce yourselves to other schools. And be on your best behaviour. We don’t want to make any enemies. You’re dismissed.”

The silhouette of a band approached them. And by the smirk on their leader’s lips, it was clear that it was a familiar group.

“Ahh, Daichi,” Kuroo called, reaching out for a hand. “Welcome to Tokyo.”

Daichi held his hand back. Tight. And he just squeezed back. Extra hard. “Thanks for having us.”

“How was your ride over?” Yaku asked.

Suga smiled. “Oh amazing. The kids are pretty tired though.”

“Understandably. Miyagi is pretty far from here,”

“Not that far,” he passive aggressively countered.

Nearby, Hinata was wheeling his instrument over to the main building. His eyes were wide with wonder— _ what would the camp be like? How much can he play? How good are the other bands? _ He couldn’t wait. 

Kageyama was close to his side, his bass wheeled behind him. His face was stern, calculated and tough. Though all he could focus on was Tokyo Tower which was staring down at him. This was it. Tokyo. The heart of Japan with some of the most lively music scenes. Maybe his future.

_ “Kozume!”  _ Hinata's shriek broke his concentration. He propped up his baritone before rushing over to the Nekoma student. He instantly trapped him in a tight hug, which Kenma surprisingly accepted. “How have you been?”

He had a soft smile on his lips. “I’ve been good Shouyou. What about you?”

_ Shouyou. Shouyou?! They’re on a first name basis?! _

“I’ve been amazing! I couldn’t sleep because I was so excited! Tokyo is so cool!”   


Kenma chuckled. “I’m glad.” 

Kageyama grunted under his breath, swooping to Hinata’s side and wrapping his arm around his shoulder. The two stared at each other for a moment. Kageyama, too harsh. But Kenma, not backing down. 

“Oh, is this your boyfriend?” Kenma’s grin wiped away. 

“Yeah!” Hinata exclaimed, completely unaware of the tension between the two musicians. 

“...huh.”

“What is that supposed to mean?!” Kageyama shouted, wrapping Hinata even tighter. 

“Nothing,” he crinkled his brows. “Calm down.”

The taller boy gritted his teeth. “I. Am. Calm.”

_ “Mmm, causing trouble here are we?”  _ Kuroo strolled over, placing a hand on top of Kenma’s head. As he ruffled his locks, the 2nd year gave a little huff. “Sorry about this one. He’s been dying to see you.”

“Kuroo,” he mumbled, flustered.

“Ah, am I embarrassing you?” the clarinetist teased, leaning a little closer to his ear. “I thought you were into that.”

Daichi interrupted, coughing deeply as he sandwiched himself between the boys. “We should head inside.”

Kuroo smirked. “Ah, right, right. I’ll show you guys inside.”

Karasuno approached the domineering building. It was a circular-shaped concert hall; one that seemed to soar over them. It was taller and wider than anything they had ever seen. A staircase led them to the entrance. Kuroo pushed open the glass door and let the others inside.

Daichi and Suga were in charge of the pack, as they tended to be, though there was an air of disconnect. Daichi led them, his chest pressed up and his chin lifted. Suga, on the other hand, was awkwardly tucked behind him, wanting to look confident but ending up a little hesitant. 

“These are the soundproof rooms. We’ll be using them tomorrow for the section practices,” Kuroo explained, gesturing to the rows of panelled rooms. “Though for now we’ll stay mainly in the hall.”

At the end of the hallway was a dark oak, French door. Ones with golden handles. The moment Kuroo thrusted open the gates, a flood of music bursted through the small crack. Basses banging on all the percussion instruments while the percussionists tried to shoo them off. Gossiping woodwinds sitting in a secluded corner of their own. Brass having a “who can play louder” competition that made them all red-faced. Complete chaos. 

The Nekoma captain turned around and gave a menacing smile. “Welcome to Tokyo.”

Daichi slapped his hands together and eyed his orchestra. “Alright guys. We—” he blinked. “Where the hell is Hinata?”

Kageyama glanced over to find a gaping hole under his arm. “Uhh…”

Before anyone could notice, Hinata had wandered about to all the other schools, his eyes darting towards all the biggest instruments. Because they were his section. The basses. And he couldn’t wait to hear them all play. 

_ “HEY! HEY! HEY!” _

A confident boy pumped his fists into the air as he loudly exclaimed. His school friends surrounded him, all enthusiastically clapping along. Hinata snaked through the cracks and peered up at him. It looked as if he was glowing. From his expression to his aura. 

The other student caught Hinata staring, and eased into a somehow bigger smile. “Hey, you,” he pointed at Hinata’s case. “You play that?”

He gulped. “Y-Yeah!”

“Woah,” he lunged over. “Cool! I play tuba,” he proudly said. Hinata gave a little gasp. “I’m Bokuto.”

“Hinata!”

“It’s nice to meet another bass player.”

_ “I-I play bass too!” _

Hinata looked to his side to find his boyfriend pressed next to him. Partially because—let’s be honest—that’s where he belonged. Partially because Daichi nearly killed him for losing Hinata a second ago. 

“What do you play?” Bokuto asked, still on the tips of his toes. He was like a quirky little chick, dancing from place to place with absolute excitement, turning his head 360 because he found another thing to focus on. 

Kageyama straightened his back. “Double bass.”

“Awesome! Double basses are sooo good,” he slapped Kageyama on the shoulder which made the first year flinch. “Akaashi!”

A boy emerged from the crowd. His face was jarringly still. Stone faced. “Yes?”

“I found you a rhythm section buddy,” he happily proclaimed, wrapping an arm around the both of them.

The other boy looked over, then gave a small bow. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m a percussionist.”

“So you play the kit and stuff?” Hinata questioned loudly.

He cracked an amused grin. Very subtle one. “I can. I stick primarily to mallet percussion.”

_ “Hey! Hey! Hey! Kuroo!~” _

Bokuto rushed over to the Nekoma captain, his adrenaline still at its peak. Akaashi sighed to himself. “I’m sorry about him. He can be...a little over the top.”

The first years hitched their breaths. “No way, he’s the coolest.”

Meanwhile, Kuroo was catching up with Bokuto. Just like old times, really. Though they both lived in Tokyo, it was fairly hard to catch up considering how busy they were. Especially now as third years.

“It was a cool idea to invite Karasuno,” Bokuto said, stretching out his back. 

“Mmm, they’re an interesting bunch. Like,” he caught a glimpse of the closest musician to them. Which was Tsukishima. “Hey you,” the first year glared at him, his brows crinkled and his lips downturned. “C’mere.”

“What?” Tsukishima approached them cautiously. 

“Hey, we don’t bite,” Kuroo lowered his voice. “...unless you want me to.”

“What do you play?” Bokuto asked.

He sighed, “Violin.”

“Do you like it?”

“Not really,”

“Well are you any good?”

Before he could answer, Yamaguchi ran in, shoving Kuroo and Tsukishima apart. “He’s a great player actually!”

“Shut up Yamaguchi,” his boyfriend lowly grumbled.

“Sorry Tsukki,”

“ _ Tsukki _ , huh?” Kuroo’s voice was grating. He was taunting, though Yamaguchi couldn’t tell whether it was directed towards him or his boyfriend. “Cute.”

Yamaguchi gritted his teeth but refrained from making a scene.

“I remember you playing at the Karasuno mini-concert. You’re  _ okay _ ,” Kuroo chuckled.

Tsukishima squinted, then smirked. “Well I’m only a first year so I’ll only get better from here. I’m not old and washed up.”

Bokuto’s spirit shattered. “Washed up?!”

“Bokuto-san, please,” Akaashi warned, immediately rushing to his side. Like something struck within him, making him rush over at an instance. 

“I’M NOT WASHED UP! MUSIC IS THROUGH MY VEINS!”

“Bokuto-san, calm down,”

“MUSIC AND I ARE FOREVER!”

Kenma watched from afar, his eyes thinning a little. His partner strolled up to him, his hands shoved into his pockets.

“So? How is he?” Kenma asked.

“Glasses?” he glanced back. Bokuto was angrily jumping up and down in place. Weirdly not upset at Tsukishima but angry all by himself. “He’s a hard one to crack.”

“Well, we’ve got until Nationals,” the younger boy said, his eyes on Hinata, who was laughing at Kageyama’s flustered state. _So_ _cute_.

Kuroo snickered. “If they make it, that is.”

“I’m sure they will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took forever to write this update haha I've been pretty busy. But I'll make up for it I swearrrr
> 
> If you guys have any feedback, thoughts etc, don't forget to comment. If you'd rather private message me, follow me on Insta at @future_sky and I'll get back to ya.
> 
> Q: what's your favourite section in the orchestra?


	39. Polovtsian Dances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the section rehearsal at the Tokyo band camp. Some drama goes down thoooo

It was the first day of Tokyo band camp. It was everything Hinata dreamt of.

It all started with an early morning, even before the sun peaked over the mountains, where everyone went on a run. Supposedly, it was to help their blood flow and start the day off right. With that, the musicians had breakfast altogether. There was enough rice to feed a whole country, as if all the boys were trying to one up each other by eating more than each other. Messy plates were littered along the table tops. Utensils clanking onto the ground. And loud chatters that swelled in the hall. 

Afterwards, every musician was  divided into their sections. _The section rehearsals._ Violins. Brass. Woodwinds. And for Hinata and Kageyama, the basses.

But neither could even anticipate how messy the bass section could be. 

Bokuto puffed his cheeks and blew the fattest note possible through his tuba. The instrument crackled and vibrated, feeling it bouncing in his chest, down his limbs and the all the way to the tips of his fingers. 

Hinata gasped and rushed over. “Cool! That’s so cool!”   


The Fukurodani student laughed, his chest pumped out proudly “Haha, you think so?”

“Yeah!” the first year's eyes glistened with excitement. “How do you do it?”   


“Blast like your whole life depends on it!” he proudly exclaimed, his hands on his hips.

Hinata swung his saxophone around so it was in front of him. Bokuto proceeded to come over and adjust his posture a bit—smacking his back to make him sit upright, and lifting his chin down a little so he could properly hold the mouthpiece in his mouth.

“Don’t keep your lips round. Squeeze down on it," he instructed.

“Like this?” the shorter boy asked, his words muffled by the reed. He proceeded to blow. The strong, low note shook the entire room; chairs shaking, sheet music falling, everyone looking over. 

Bokuto gave the biggest clap.  “Ayy, you got it,” he slapped him on the back. Hinata blushed a little. “You’ve got some lungs Hinata.”

“Ha, thanks!” he smiled wildly. His expression was of pure joy, looking like an adorable little puppy. 

The tubist's heart melted.  “...can I keep you…?”

“Hey so Karasuno,” a Shinzen student called. Hinata and Kageyama turned around. “Why have I never seen you at Nationals before?”

The bassist gripped the neck of his bass. Tight. “We...we...haven’t made it,” he gulped. “In a while.”

“But we’re making it this year!” Hinata interjected, leaping to his feet.

The Shinzen bassist raised an eyebrow. “But doesn't only one orchestra get platinum in Miyagi?”

The two first years stared at each other. “Platinum?”

Another Shinzen student gasped. “Do you not know how the Spring Festival works?”

Both Karasuno students shook their heads. Their seniors gave an amused chuckle as they settled around them. They all grabbed their chairs and made a little circle in the middle of the room. 

Nobuyuki spoke up, lowering his bow to the table next to him. He was just as Kenma had described—calm, firm and articulate. “Well, every prefecture gets their own festival. After each set, an orchestra receives either a bronze, silver or gold. But no matter what you get, the best orchestra will go through to Nationals. Except in Tokyo. The four best orchestras get to go to Nationals.”

“But what’s platinum?” Hinata asked.

“Well,” Bokuto proudly stood up. “The best of the best get platinum. And it feels so good when you get one!”

“But from what I heard, Miyagi has never given out multiple platinums,” Nobuyuki said. 

Kageyama looked at Hinata, who had the same determined expression he had. “This means that we have to beat Shiratorizawa no matter what.”

The shorter boy nodded. “We’ll get the platinum ourselves.”

✦✦✦

Tsukishima leaned against the wall, his hands fiddling with his phone. He had escaped the soundproof rooms and was now standing in the hallway. Which was nice, cool and still. 

_God_ , he hated section rehearsals. He despised the other 2nd violins. They were all either too childish, or taking it too seriously. He wanted everyone to sit in dead silence and barely touch their instruments. _Why was that so hard?_

_ TSUKKI <3: come out here. _

_ TSUKKI <3: im bored  _

_ YAMS: I can’t!  _

_ YAMS: the cello section is really nice! _

He sighed, adjusting his glasses. This stupid Tokyo band camp was the last thing he wanted to do. Away from the comforts of his own dorms; no privacy; loud musicians. In a perfect world, he would be snowed in with Yamaguchi at their dorm. And every other Karasuno student would be at home, so it would just be the two of them at the campus. 

_ “Hey, you.” _

That cocky, suave tone had called for him multiple times that trip. And never once did he like it. 

Tsukishima peered up from his phone, to find Kuroo smirking at him. “Who are you again?”

The third year drew out a hiss, but covered it with a wider grin. “Sassy one, aren’t ya?”

“So? What do you want?” 

Kuroo took Tsukishima’s phone between his fingers then swiftly tucked it into his front pocket. “Your attention.”

The first year kissed his teeth, feeling a little uncomfortable for once. He liked having control over the situation, but he didn’t know how to deal with this one. Kuroo was domineering figure that didn't back down. He liked the challenge. And honestly. Tsukishima was too tired to fight. 

“Don’t you have a boyfriend?” the violinist asked.

The clarinetist shuffled a little closer. “He won’t mind.”

“I have a boyfriend,”

“He doesn't have to know,” he propped his elbow onto the wall, trapping Tsukishima in his presence. 

“You’re close,” so close his voice was grinding against him. 

“I am,”

Tsukishima’s phone buzzed. Before he could check, Kuroo cut him off by grabbing his chin. 

“Don’t—”

The door flung open, followed by quick steps and a sudden stop. Tsukishima couldn’t look over.

_ “...Tsukki…?” _

It was all Yamaguchi. The tone. The yelp. The slight whimper at the end. Tsukishima could recognise that voice anywhere. But he could barely see him. Everything he saw was Kuroo. And his stupid, stupid face. 

“W-Wait!” he struggled out of the grasp, but by the time he leapt out, Yamaguchi was completely gone. No remnants of him left.

Tsukishima angrily swung back, frustration booming inside his chest. The yearn to scream was scratching his insides. 

“Oh sorry,” Kuroo smiled, his brows knitted together. “You had some muck on your chin.”

“Why the  _ hell _ did you do?” he spat. “You fucked with Yamaguchi’s head. He is everything—”

“But you didn’t do anything wrong. I wonder why he’s upset with you,” he shrugged, gently placing the seed into his head. “If he liked you so much, he should take your side.”

He wanted to blast back, but he gulped and let it sit. He didn’t want to reveal too much. “Tsk, you don’t know anything about us.”

Tsukishima angrily stormed off into his section rehearsal, his heels loudly clicking against the ground. He took out all his frustrations—with his toes scrunched, his ankles compressed—onto his foot. 

Kuroo laughed to himself, adjusting his locks that seemed to flop over, almost like that rejection. 

_ “Seems like you got rejected.” _

He shuffled over slightly and spotted a small frame behind a pillar. “You were watching me?”

The other boy emerged from his hiding spot, his gaming console in hand. “You left the section rehearsal so I got bored.”

Kuroo smirked. “You missed me?”

“No,”

“Aw, you missed me,”

“No I didn’t,”

“You did,”

“I didn’t.”


	40. Maria Durch Ein' Dornwald Ging

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Christmas chapter to celebrate the upcoming holiday.

Tokyo really was the biggest mega city in the world. Buildings that seemingly never ended. Businessmen rushing to their jobs. The methodological and perfectly timed trains. And the lost Karasuno musicians were in the midst of it.

Hinata, Tanaka and Noya were at the front of the pack, navigating through the thick crowd towards the biggest, shiniest building at the heart of Shibuya. 109. A huge shopping mall that they had been anxiously waiting to get to. 

Christmas decorations were everywhere. Bright twinkles along the trees, and green and red splashed along the store fronts. Kageyama reached out for Hinata’s hand.

“What do you think about that?” he pointed over to a store with Christmas themed gloves at the front. 

Hinata peered over and smiled. “Are you cold Kageyama?”

“W-Well,” he pointed right next to it. It was a set. Specifically for couples. “I think they look…good.”

“Yeah! Let’s get them.”

The first year grabbed him and started diverging from the path. Suga took notice and rushed over. “Wait. Wait. Don’t get lost you two. Kageyama you know what to do when you're lost right?”

“I’m sure they’ll be fine Suga. They have phones on them,” Daichi reassured, as if it was a reflex. Until they both locked eyes, and the awkwardness flooded back. “E-Enno...Enno—”

Asahi jumped in, “Hey Ennoshita?” the second year looked over. “Can you look after those two?”   


“Of course,” the saxophonist followed them into the crowd. 

He sighed to himself, “They’ll be fine.”  _ But I don’t know if you two are. _

Daichi awkwardly pushed past, trying to go after Nishinoya and Tanka who were already making a mess at the street-fashion boutique at the end of the street. 

Asahi snickered. “We haven’t even got to 109 and we’re already–”

Suga sniffed. Asahi knew what this meant — when his bottom lip quivered, when his gaze lingered; his eyebrows arched that way. 

“What happened?” the taller boy asked.

The band captain shook his head. “It really wasn’t that big of a fight.”

“So it was a fight?”

He halted, then pressed his lips together. “I guess…”

Daichi was in the far corner of the busy street, angrily shouting at Tanaka and Nishinoya, who were making a mess with all the clothes. It was always like this. The two of them, looking after everyone else. Working together to make everything work.

“Was it worth it?”

“No,” Suga exhaled. “I think I messed it up.”

_ God, look at him.  _ The polite way he bowed at the store owner. The soft smile he had when they accepted the apology. The little chuckle he gave when they complimented his maturity. 

“You haven’t,” Asahi placed a hand onto his shoulder. “Daichi cares about you a lot.”

“And I care about him too but I don’t think he realises...how much I do,” his voice fell to a falter.

_ I wish I could get him back.  _ Suga felt like he was walking without his right hand. Half of his body felt numb. Like he was mindlessly stumbling around the streets of Tokyo.

“Why don’t you just tell him?” 

Suga looked up, his eyes circular and wide. “...I didn’t think of it.”

“How are you in the college prep class?” 

They shared a laugh as they entered the tall building. 

✦✦✦

Tsukishima lingered at a storefront, his eyes glued on the array of colourful keychains in front of him. Most of them Christmas themed. 

He was never a fan of Christmas. The annoying music. The stupid reds and greens. The unavoidable atmosphere. He couldn’t stand it. But he always knew that Yamaguchi loved it, and would drag him out to celebrate it with him (which was usually sharing a KFC box together).

“What are you looking at?” Hinata perked up. His eyes lit up. “They’re cute. Are you gonna get them for—?”

“No, shut up,” the taller boy cut him off, swerving around to walk off.

“Come on, do something nice for him! It’s Christmas after all,” Hinata encouraged.

Kageyama backed him up, “Yeah, be a good boyfriend for once.”

“Coming from you,” Tsukishima jabbed back. 

“You haven’t talked to him all day. I don’t know what happened but—”

“Nothing,” he didn’t mean to shout. “Nothing...happened.”

Hinata pursed his lips. “Doesn’t seem like nothing.”

He groaned to himself. There were a couple of options here. He could keep it to himself, and let the overwhelming agony and guilt eat him up. He could go to Daichi and Suga for advice—though in that moment they couldn't keep their own relationship together. Or he could tell Kageyama and Hinata who were actually his age and were in a (somewhat) functioning relationship (also double bonus because they’d leave him alone).

The violinist sighed, “Yamaguchi is mad at me because of a misunderstanding.”

The couple looked at each other, then at him, mirroring each other’s expressions of confusion. 

“Well…” Kageyama’s emotional unavailability pierced through their conversation. He scratched his head, then pushed Hinata forward.

“Maybe do something he likes to make it up to him,” the saxophonist suggested. “Like a present! It’s Christmas after all.”

“...yeah…” he slowly said, his eyes lingering on the various stores in the building. The possibilities were endless. And that’s what scared him the most.

Keychains were cute, right? But Yamaguchi already had keychains. He  _ could _ use them for his bag. Oh but who carries around a whole bag? They live on campus after all. Then something related to music? No, no they were sick of music. If anything they were more focused on studying. Oh studying so maybe a pencil? That's stupid. Who gets their boyfriend a—

“Are you okay?” Hinata asked.

Tsukishima glared, "What?"

"You...you look like you're going to kill someone," he squeaked. 

“...just mind your own business,"

The shortest boy pouted. “I’m trying to be nice! Yamaguchi is my friend after all.”

“Just leave him Hinata,” Kageyama lightly nudged his boyfriend away. “He never takes help anyway.”

“But Yamaguchi—” 

_ God they were so annoying.  _ All Tsukishima wanted to do was quickly find something and go.  _ No. It shouldn’t be quick.  _ He wanted to spend all day on it. He wanted to really, really show how much he cared. How much thought he was willing to put into it.

“Okay,” he said in a low voice. Hinata and Kageyama stopped. “Can you…” the words made him feel nauseous. “H-Help…?”

Hinata instantly brightened while Kageyama cringed with disgust. 

“Of course we’ll help!” he leapt over to him. “What were you thinking of?"

“A...pencil?”

Hinata blinked. “Don’t...uh....don’t do that,” he pondered for a second. “I mean, it’s useful but it isn’t special.”

“Get something for him that reminds him of you,” Kageyama added, though reluctantly. 

“Like what?” Tsukishima asked.

“Salt,”

“No,”

“Well, I tried.”

Hinata grinned wider. “Ooh what about like a soft toy?”   


“He has plenty of them in our room. Trust me,”

“Like a phone charm? So it’s always on him,”

“Already has one,”  _ yeah it’s one of us at a photobooth when we were 11.  _

“A new cello?”

“I don’t have that kind of money,”

“Hmm…” he pondered deeply. “Something special, something that reminds him of you, and something that’ll be on him at all times…” he suddenly gasped. “I got it!”

✦✦✦

_ *YAMAGUCCI* _ : where are you?

_ THE BEST SAXOPHONIST _ : we’re near the entrance of the building

_ *YAMAGUCCI* _ : which one? There are 4

This was his nightmare. Yamaguchi was lost in the streets of Tokyo. At night. In most circumstances he would’ve been scared, but since it was Christmas, the streets were still flooded, and all the lights were illuminated. In saying that, he was still lost and all by himself. Ukai Sensei was definitely going to kill him.

All he remembered was standing by a store front, feeling a little awkward. Tsukishima wasn’t next to him like he usually was, Hinata and Kageyama were both nowhere to be seen, so he was sticking to Kinoshita and Narita. They were excitedly looking at the comic books inside the store but all Yamaguchi could focus on was the moon shaped necklace at the neighbouring shop.  _ Tsukki. _

Yamaguchi felt naked without him. Like he wasn’t complete. Walking without his other half.  _ Maybe I should get it for him. Remind him of how much I like him.  _

When he blinked, he was all alone. 

He swore he had only stared at it for two seconds but by the time he looked behind him, everyone was gone. 

And now he was all alone on the streets, his loneliness made worse by all the couples around him. All lovey dovey. All happy. All perfect.

_ THE BEST SAXOPHONIST _ : do you see that big Christmas tree?

Yamaguchi peered up and spotted a large, brightly illuminated tree beyond the crowd.

_ *YAMAGUCCI*: I see it _

_ *YAMAGUCCI*: I’ll meet you there _

The tree was beautiful, to say the least. Rainbow coloured decorations swung around the branches. Fairy lights all the tips of the leaves, looking as if they were dripping in gold. And at the very top was a glistening star. A large, glittery star. One that Yamaguchi couldn’t stop looking at.

“Yamaguchi,”

That voice. It wasn’t Hinata. 

He turned around to find a timid Tsukishima, waiting in front of him. The background noise muted. 

“W-What are you—?” Yamaguchi mumbled, feeling the warmth of his words bouncing against his scarf. 

Tsukishima walked towards him, his hands stuck in the pockets of his puffer jacket. His eyes avoided him. “I’m sorry about what happened. It was a misunderstanding.”

“ _ What was _ ?” he spat, feeling tears clog his throat. “You kissing Kuroo?”   


“ _ He _ kissed  _ me _ ,” Tsukishima protested. “I didn’t—”

“What was I supposed to think? My boyfriend with some other guy—I just,” he sniffed, his hands trembling.  _ Calm down. Calm down. Calm— _

Tsukishima suddenly cupped his cheek, softly nudging him closer until their lips pressed together. The shorter boy’s gasp muffled against the warmth of Tsukishima’s breath. 

When they parted, his knees nearly broke in half. 

“This,” he said. Yamaguchi gazed up at him with glassy eyes. “This is only for you.”

The way his palm pressed against his jaw. The warmth of his lips. The little moan he gave as he did so. That was the Tsukki he knew, and Kuroo knew nothing about it. 

“I got you this,” Tsukishima stuck his hands into his jean pockets and revealed a box. One that fit comfortably in his palm. 

Yamaguchi tried to contain his overwhelming smile. He struggled to open it, his eyes too foggy to see anything. Tsukishima laughed and helped him. Inside the box was a bracelet with little, intricate stars etched into the gold. 

He gasped. 

Tsukishima gently held his hand as he clipped the bracelet around his slender wrist. He loved his boyfriend’s hands—how soft and tender they were. The way it fitted perfectly in his own hands.

“I-I thought you didn’t care about Christmas,” Yamaguchi chuckled, tracing his bracelet with his other hand. 

“I don't,” he bluntly said. “But I care about you.”

Yamaguchi bit down on his lip. “Well—”

He revealed a little box of his own from his back pocket. 

“What is it?” the taller boy asked, taking off the top. 

It was a bracelet of his own with moons carved in the golden band. Tsukishima rocked his head back and laughed.  _ What are the odds? _

Yamaguchi helped him put the bracelet on. “We match.”

“You know me well.”

Tsukishima lowered himself and kissed him again.

With the snow falling around them, and the illuminated tree casting its shadow over them, this really was the perfect Christmas. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh writing about the Japanese Christmas makes me miss home. 2020 has been a tough year for us all but even so, I wish you guys the merriest, happiest holidays. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	41. Kiseki

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Kageyama centric chapter focusing on Karasuno's performance at the Tokyo band camp. It's a little sappy, I have to say.

The Karasuno orchestra took their seats in the audience. The stage was bigger and wider than they had imagined — the wooden floorboards stretched across 50 columns of seats. Despite the huge size, the audience could hear the orchestra perfectly because of the circular shape of the ceiling. Though this fact made it particularly nerve wracking for the band since everything (and I do mean everything) was audible. 

The first half of the performances had already concluded. Only Fukurodani, Nekoma and Karasuno were left to perform.  _ Lucky last,  _ since they were the “guests from Miyagi”. Which was _even_ _more_ pressure than they ever wanted. _As if performing wasn't nervewracking enough._

“What do you think of the orchestras so far?” Hinata whispered over to Kageyama.

The taller boy’s eyes were still glued on the stage. “They’ve changed the original songs. Like they knew that Jpop was too boring so they had to make changes.”

It was obvious that every ensemble looked down on Jpop and the entire concept itself, opting to change the song in some way to make it more “interesting”. By making the song a march, or adding more countermelodies, or using the opportunity to highlight sections that they usually didn’t; every school had completely changed the piece. In a way Karasuno didn’t. 

Kageyama's hands turned to fists. The nerves were getting to him. He couldn't imagine embarrassing himself in front of _these_ musicians. Tokyo musicians, who had the name behind them. He hated that he couldn't show off all his skills; everything he had been working on because of this stupid rule. 

Backstage, Fukurodani were getting ready. Blowing warm air through their instruments; warming up their arms and fingers; going through the corrections on their sheet music—it was the usual process. 

“Hey! Hey! Hey!” the musicians surrounded the band captain. Bokuto stood right at the centre of the band, his tuba confidently held in his arms. “Let’s do this! Just like we always do.”

Akaashi added, drumsticks in hand, “Don’t forget the corrections around bar 34. Hold back on the strings. For the tuba solo, everyone needs to immediately cut off. It’s an obvious mistake if someone holds their note for too long. Most importantly—”

“Have fun!”

Everyone cheered, their excitement reaching its peak. They were only a couple of minutes away from going on stage. 

The 2nd year sighed to himself, “I was going to say that we need a better balance on the last note.”

“Sorry Akaashi I couldn’t help it,” Bokuto’s hands turned to fists. “I’m just so excited to play!”

Akaashi couldn’t help but to smile. His senior always melted that icy exterior of his. “It’s okay.”

“Are you excited?” 

He snickered, “We perform all the time Bokuto.”

“Yeah! And it feels great every single time,” he exclaimed, exuding an exuberant aura. He could barely contain it. 

_ I can watch you forever.  _

They stepped onto the stage together. The bright lights, the warm air, the silence—it felt like home. The captains dispersed into their respective seats. Bokuto within the orchestra; Akaashi at the back supporting the orchestra. Both, still the backbones of the band. 

_ ともに _

It’s a fast paced, adventurous Jpop song. Something so lively and expressive, you could instantly tell that Bokuto was in front of the pack. The way he blew his tuba to announce that the song had begun—that Fukurodani had arrived—sprung the audience awake. But it was only the beginning.

The band joined in with might and power. Strings rumbling beneath them—unexpectedly low like they were letting the basses take charge. Kageyama nearly gasped, his ears twitching. He picked up on the subtleness of the strings underneath the blasting basses. It was like the usual pyramid of sound was flipped. Orchestras often made the mistake of having overwhelming sopranos on top of a weaker bass, but Fukurodani had somehow completely toppled the whole structure and rebuilt it from scratch.

Despite the chaotic nature of the piece, it was still fun to listen to. And it was thanks to one section in particular; the percussion. Akaashi was matching Bokuto’s every move, seemingly knowing his part better than his own. Percussions often had the difficult job of setting the pace of the piece, despite their sound taking longer to reach the audience. But Akaashi grabbed that challenge by the throat and attacked it with his two drumsticks. His eyes never left Bokuto’s sight, making sure to hit the snare and kick the bass one breath before Bokuto’s. And as a result, it sounded perfectly in sync to everyone. 

Kageyama’s fingers twitched. He couldn’t take his eyes off of Akaashi. His concentration. His preciseness. The intricacies of his playing. It mirrored his own, but in a completely different form.  _ He had to talk to him. Had to.  _

The orchestra stripped back for a moment. Only a top hat and a softer tuba solo. Bokuto—despite his wild nature—still had the technique behind his playing. His staccatos were crisp and short. His vibratos, pleasant to listen to. The other brasses gently accompanied him. Growing louder, louder. Even louder. And at the very top—Bokuto blew the fullest, crackliest note he could muster. The audience shook with the force. 

They were at their full force now. Quick, intricate countermelodies. Passionate, red faced brass. Percussion thrashing about. It was a fun, chaotic, energetic piece. It almost felt like a rollercoaster that the audience had strapped in to experience. 

And it all concluded with a major chord. 

The audience erupted in cheers.

“Woah!” Hinata’s eyes glistened with inspiration as he excitedly turned to his partner. “That was amazing! Did you hear Bokuto’s “bu daaaaa baaa” part?”

Kageyama nodded, dazed. “...yeah.”

“Woah, Kageyama-kun, are you okay?”

He shook his head. “...I need to talk to that percussionist.”

“Akaashi?”

He hummed, and slumped back in his seat. 

✦✦✦

Karasuno was warming up backstage. It was the usual—blowing warm air through their instruments; tuning softly; going over last minute corrections. Hinata stood by the wings, giving a small wave towards Kenma who was already on stage. Kageyama grabbed that hand and held it tightly within his own, shooting the oboist a glare as he did so. 

Nekoma.  _ 白日 _

It all began with a clarinet solo. Violins plucking as accompaniment. An oboe countermelody. Still feeling a little empty. 

Then a gentle snare to kick in the rhythm. It was a jazzy arrangement. Swing. Something that could be described as “classy”. The piece was light on its feet. A little mischievous. Kageyama loved it. He felt the urge to play along, walking his fingers along his double bass.

_ God. Why couldn't Karasuno play something like that? _ _Kiseki would've been much better as a jazzy piece. Or a full-on, classical orchestral arrangement. Or even a fanfare._ He couldn't understand why they kept the simplistic, childish melodies of the original. 

“Kageyama? Are you paying attention?” Daichi asked. The first year snapped into reality. “Good. Okay, we need to ignore what the other bands have done and focus on us. Karasuno. What we have. We’ve worked hard for this moment and we won’t let the Tokyo bands run us over.”

“Just because we haven’t changed it up like the other bands, doesn’t mean we can’t sound just as good,” Suga added. 

But it was true. They weren’t going to sound as good, or at least Kageyama thought so. They lacked creativity, they lacked character. Karasuno were stepping on stage with a piece for elementary schoolers, hoping that the lyrics were somehow going to pull them through (despite the fact that there were no lyrics considering they were an orchestra). 

He wanted to rip it into shreds. Better yet, step onto stage, and play an improve solo over the top to make it somehow interesting. That's what he would've done; Kageyama but a year younger. He would've ranted to begin with, and if the band refused to budge, he would force it. 

_“Do you remember the lyrics Kageyama?”_ Hinata asked over.

He blinked, then looked down to see his boyfriend nervously running his hands up and down the neck of his baritone. It was a mix of nerves and excitement. Of worry and anticipation. 

Kageyama tried to contain his frustration with a gulp, “Yes. Of course.”

They had stayed up every night to remember them together. They'd sit on their respective beds and read them out loud together. It was like homework that Suga had set for them when they initially received the piece, which the two of them religiously stuck to. After a while, it felt robotic to him. It became more and more of a chore. And to this day, he never really understood what the importance of that task was. Sure, he knew them back to front, but it was meaningless to the audience who had to hear minims and semibreves for 3 minutes. 

"Run the lyrics in your head as you play," Suga said softly into Kageyama's ear. T he younger boy jolted, meeting the clarinetist's amused grin. "They'll lead you through the piece."

Kageyama tried to imagine that in his head. The way the lyrics would form a narrow road — their  _ Kiseki _ . It would be something that bound the band together. 

He took a deep breath. Kiseki had another meaning. Fate. 

_ Now introducing Karasuno to the stage.  _

Maybe it was fate to play the piece as intended. Isn't that what the composers wanted? Something simplistic, something catchy, something relatable. Though it still sounded like gibberish to him. 

Kageyama took a step forward and entering the warm stage lights. 

The Tokyo stage was somehow even larger than all the ones he’d ever played at. And the audience felt miles and miles away. It was like he was playing to no one.  _ No...audience? _ Then why would he be playing?  _ No. No. Think about it differently. _ It was  _ intimate _ , maybe?  _ Yeah _ , like he was playing for himself and Hinata. 

He picked up his bow. Ukai Sensei raised his arms. 

_ “Tomorrow I’ll fall in love with you somehow more than today” _

The piece began with a flute solo. Asahi. His tone was full, his notes were soft. Like cherry blossom almost; ones with waxy petals. It symbolised something blooming, something new. 

_ “I can’t stop these overflowing emotions _

_ Even though I love you so much _

_ I can’t put it into words” _

He visualised soft, pastel hues. Delicate pinks. A feeling so delicate, it melted into air. Along with the frustration he felt before. Kageyama's grip of the bow loosened.

_ “Whether our meeting was coincidence _

_ Or fate, just the fact that I met you _

_ Is a miracle” _

Kageyama thought it was all fate. _Him_. The face he saw when the door flung open on the very first day of school. That excited expression and slight panting because he had run all the way to their dorm room with his baritone sax in hand. The way he shot out his hand to greet him. It was a mircale, though Kageyama didn't know it at the time. 

_ “We walk close together _

_ Making our eternal love tangible _

_ I want to always be smiling by your side” _

His eyes left his sheet music, and made its trail over to Hinata, who was looking back at him too. His mouthpiece never left his lips, so he was clearly playing. But even without looking at the paper in front of them, they were playing in perfect sync. The lyrics were binding them together. Binding them all together. Leading them down the narrow road—"Kiseki".

_ “Thank you” and, “I love you” _

_ Just aren’t enough, just at least let me say _

_ I’m happy” _

Kageyama softly smiled over. The bow glided through his fingertips effortlessly. Like he was letting his instinct play the piece. And it felt dream-like. Another form of sleepwalking. He could feel his heartbeat in time with the piece. 

_ “On days when nothing seems to go right, just being together makes everything better _

_ We share everything, our joy and sorrow _

_ If I'm with you, I feel alive _

_ So I want to be by your side forever, "my beloved", to the last moment” _

His fingers were now playing by itself. He could barely feel his own instrument, as if it was becoming another part of his body. Just another limb. Because he couldn’t focus on anything but Hinata at that moment. His round features. The way his chest filled with air before each bar. His tight cheeks. The softness in his eyes. Those lips he had kissed over and over again. 

_ “Tomorrow we'll smile more than today, as long as I can be with you _

_ Ten years, a hundred years, a thousand years, we'll be together no matter how long” _

Hinata parted his mouthpiece from his lips and gave a smile back. The world around him came to a halt. It was the two of them together in this rose-hued world. 

_ I'll always love you _

There was a moment of silence. Then the audience erupted in cheers and joy. It was like the empty room suddenly flooded with people as the applause swelled the empty space. Karasuno rose to their feet, feeling a little lightheaded as they did so. 

The whole room was in shock. Kiseki was a simplistic piece. It wasn’t fun like Tomoni. It wasn’t creative like Hakujitsu. But it was tender. Warm. Loving. Indescribable in some ways. And that feeling of complete bliss he felt when he saw Hinata during the piece...it was something Kageyama couldn’t quite figure out.

That’s when he noticed. He brought his hand up to his cheek, and realised that it was damp. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeesh, it's been a while since I've uploaded. Hopefully, I accurately translated Kiseki's lyrics to convey what it truly mean in Japanese. The word "Kiseki" can mean both faith and a narrow-road and I hope that somehow made sense within the fic.


	42. Yuki No Hana

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is this a slightly smutty chapter? :O
> 
> But there's some Daisuga fluff to begin the chapter
> 
> Then a slow descend into oop territory

The Tokyo band camp was already coming to a close. It felt so short; Karasuno wanted to spend another week there. See more of the city, travel around all the nooks and crannies of this place, even do some more shopping, but considering that it was already the 27th, they barely had any time to go back to campus, gather their belongings, and go back to their own families in time for New Years. 

“Don’t forget anything! We won’t be coming back!” Suga instructed, overlooking the students who shoved the bigger instruments in the lower compartment of the bus. 

It was beginning to snow. Trees were cloaked with white. Streets left with wet footprints. And now on them, in the freezing cold as they gathered their belongings for their trip back to Miyagi.

Suga shivered, blowing warm air into his cold hands. It felt like frost bite. 

“Do you need these?” he looked up to find Daichi standing next to him, a pair of mittens in hand. They were the gloves that Suga had given him two years prior when he went to Hokkaido with his family.  _ He had kept them _ . 

“Ah, thanks,” he graciously put them on, the fuzzy cotton warming his palms. 

“How do you think we went?” Daichi asked, doing a quick skim of the landscape to check everyone was here. The students were still busy chatting away and getting ready to board the bus. “I know it’s a concert and all, but it felt really good. Very solid and together.”

“I agree. There was something...special when we played,” he explained. “I don’t really know what it was, and I don’t really know how to describe it but it felt like...I don’t know, falling in love? Somehow? Like I was daydreaming and my emotions were playing for me,” Suga chuckled to himself. “That probably sounds really stupid.”

“No, I felt it too.”

Their eyes met for the first time in days. But it had felt like eternity. And as they did so, that familiarity flooded back. 

He wanted to reach out and hold him like he used. Feel his hands in his own.

_ “Ah, Daichi!” _

They turned around to find almost all the musicians from Tokyo standing out in the cold with them. Daichi moved his hand back to his side.

“Kuroo!” he ran up towards the Nekoma captain with open arms. “What are you doing out here?”

“Well, we couldn’t let you guys freeze in the cold,” the Nekoma clarinetist said. The musicians gathered around to help them, holding their cases alongside them and loading their luggage into the bus. 

Daichi gave a gracious smile, “Thank you so much.”

He shrugged. “You can make it up to us at Nationals,” before Daichi could give a firm nod, he cut him off. “If you make it, that is.”

“We sure will.”

Meanwhile, Bokuto carried an unknown french horn case alongside Akaashi. As he loaded it into the bus, he caught a glimpse of Kageyama and Hinata who were placing down their own instruments into the compartment. 

“Akaashi! It’s him!” the Fukurodani captain announced. Akaashi’s face reddened with embarrassment. “Come on talk to him! You were so excited to—”

“Bokuto, please,” he tried to calm down. "I don't want to disturb them."

Hinata took notice and quickly grabbed Kageyama by the sleeve. “You said you wanted to talk to Akaashi-san! Right?”

The other first year also burned a little red as he entered the unknown conversation. “...Hinata…” he grumbled, trying to scooch away.

The four of them stood awkwardly close in the snow. Two of them being too excited. The other two, embarrassed.

Bokuto nudged his partner a little, and the second year caved.

“I..I noticed you in the performance,” Akaashi muttered. “You were very technical, rhythmic, and your phrases were well-articulated. I was impressed.”

Kageyama’s voice hitched, “I...you...good…”

“Come on Kageyama,” his boyfriend urged. “You couldn’t stop talking about how good he was! Especially that “dum dum dummm dum” part! Remember?”

The taller boy cleared his throat. “Yeah…I really liked the control you had over your instrument. It was like you had control over the whole orchestra…”

“Thank you.”

Hinata and Bokuto looked at each other and shared the widest, proudest smiles.

✦✦✦

"Is everyone onboard?" Daichi asked loudly to the whole bus. Meanwhile, Suga counted the heads of the musicians and brought back a firm nod to his co-captain. "It's already pretty late so I'm guessing a lot of us are going to sleep on the bus. So you guys better be quiet."

The other musicians hummed.

Daichi sighed to himself, finally able to relax back on his seat. He should've been calm, considering the band camp was finally over, and the snow outside was beyond beautiful. But all he could focus on was the awkward silence between Suga and him.

He had no idea what their relationship was. Or what it was supposed to be. 

They had sat next to each other again on the bus (mostly because the other seats were full), so that must mean they're cool, right? But then again, they sat with each other on the way and that was...beyond awkward.

But they had exchanged words before, in the snow, and it was nice and friendly. Ah, but then again, they hadn't talked since. 

Daichi glanced to his side. Suga was on his phone, flicking through his playlist to choose a desired song. 

He cleared his throat, and it caught the clarinetist's attention. "So, hey...uh..."

Suga popped one earbud out, "Yes?"

"Tokyo band camp was fun, huh?"

"Yeah," he smiled. "It was amazing. I hope we can come back to Tokyo one day."

_We. Us. Ha, yes._

Daichi grinned a little wider, "Yeah. I wanted to check out more of Tokyo. Maybe even sky tree."

"Ah, same," he hummed. "I was dying to see sky tree. Oh and the Edo Tokyo Museum and the nearby park. It's such a shame we couldn't do everything. I really hope we'll come back one day. Hopefully soon."

"Maybe...maybe we can come back after graduation? I mean, if you want to,"

"Of course I—" Suga flipped around with the brightest smile, until he realised. _We. Like, the two of them. Together. Maybe alone._ His face burned with embarrassment. "I'd...I'd like that."

Daichi gave a firm nod. "I'd like that too."

Suga pinched the fallen earbud with his fingers and gestured over to his partner. In return, he plopped it into his ear. 

_Kiseki._

✦✦✦

It was the middle of the night. The bus was deathly quiet. Hinata felt like he was the only one awake. Everyone seemingly crashed and fell asleep the moment they got on back in Tokyo. Band camps meant late nights and way too much adrenaline so of course they were trying to get some much needed sleep.

Not Hinata though. He was still high off of adrenaline. He wanted to perform again. And again. And again. And hear them play again. He didn’t want it to end. He wasn’t ready quite yet.

Kageyama sat next to him, his blinking becoming slower and slower until his eyelids became too heavy. His hand was gently placed on top of Hinata’s, like he was trying to warm them up.

“Psst, Yamayama,” Hinata whispered over in a slightly playful tone.

Kageyama cracked a grin, “Yeah?” 

“Are you awake?”

“Barely.”

Hinata lifted the hand cupping Kageyama’s and slowly inched it up his arm, to then slide it down to his lap. He walked his fingers down the curve of his thigh. 

“Kageyama,” Hinata whispered, leaning his head on his shoulder. “Let’s kiss!”

The bassist inhaled.

“You idiot,” he said sharply but soft enough so no one could hear. “Someone might hear us.”

They were at the very back of the bus, but still, Tsukishima and Yamaguchi were right in front of them. 

Hinata pouted. “Come on.”

“We’ll do it when we get back,” he tried to dismiss. He felt his own breath deepen as he felt Hinata’s hand teasingly stroke up and down his upper leg. Each touch burned through his pants, and he was itching for his fingers to grace his exposed skin.

“But I want to do it now,” he whined. Hinata played with Kageyama’s zipper, just flicking it back and forth. _ Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. _ Kageyama wanted to grab his hand and shove it in but he couldn’t.  _ Come on.  _ When he looked forward, he could make out the silhouette of Tsukishima and Yamaguchi resting on one another as they slept. 

_ Don't do it Kageyama. Don't do it. You'll get so much shit from everyone if you get caught. Especially Daichi.  _

He glanced to his side, meeting Hinata's wide eyes. _God, the way his eyes glistened like that._

_Fuck it._

Kageyama instantly whipped over and grabbed Hinata by the chin, messily crashing their lips together. The shorter boy gasped, which Kageyama inhaled to then press them closer together. His tongue swirled his, feeling the soft and supple feeling between his lips. 

Kageyama pulled back to find a flustered Hinata. He felt so lightheaded, he swore he could've passed out. They grabbed at each other, their hands messily trying to find each other in the midst of the darkness. The taller boy lined his index finger down Hinata’s buttons, slowly undoing each and every one. His boyfriend winced in return, his yelp muffled by Kageyama’s neck. He showered him with kisses, up and down his shoulder. They were so firm and muscular. 

Kageyama’s hand patted the top of Hinata’s head, but as he bit down on him, he scrunched his fingers in his locks tightly. He helplessly tried to stop himself from moaning by clinging onto him. He felt the softness of his hair on his fingertips. It contrasted how harshly Hinata was biting down on him. 

“Hinata…” Kageyama let out a small whimper.

The shorter boy peered up, his eyes glistening with a sense of passion. He was entranced, in a way, like he could only focus on Kageyama and nothing else.  _ Fuck _ . When Hinata looked like that, Kageyama felt a fire burn inside of him. All he wanted to do was yank off all his clothes, kiss him hard, and—

Hinata undid his seatbelt and slipped on top of him. Straddling his lap. He wrapped his arms around his neck and brought him into another rough kiss. 

They melted into one another, and Kageyama couldn’t help but to grasp onto every inch of Hinata’s body. He was _his_. All _his_. And that single thought echoed in his mind. 

“Hinata…” he uttered his name. It felt soft on his tongue. He left a trail of kisses down his chin, lining every inch of his jaw with marks. Until he was down to his collarbone, where he bit down on him hard. Kageyama wanted to leave his neck completely purple. Leave him marked with him so the whole world would know that Hinata was his. And his only. 

The shorter boy moaned, helplessly trying to muffle it with Kageyama’s forehead. His fingers dug into Kageyama’s back. 

“Y-You’re going to ruin me Kageyama,” he whimpered, biting down on his bottom lip.

The bassist rubbed his hands down his back. “I know.”

_ “HINATA! KAGEYAMA!”  _

They could recognise that scream anywhere. Daichi.  _ Oh no. _

Hinata leaped off of his lap and returned to his own seat, struggling to pull the seat belt.

“Hinata you idiot! Hurry up! Hurry up!” Kageyama panicked. The two of them yanked on the jammed seatbelt. 

Tsukishima and Yamaguchi simultaneously bolted awake. They looked behind them and exchanged amused expressions.

Though Tsukishima would usually boom at them with frustration for waking him up, he reveled in the chaos. “Ooh, the prince is in trouble.”

Kageyama could feel his heart about to pop out of his body. “Don’t call me that!”

“And where’s your shirt Hinata?” Yamaguchi laughed, his cheeks a little pink.

The short boy patted down his torso. “I-I don’t know!”

_ As if this couldn’t get any worse _ . Should he plan his funeral now? Daichi would surely kill them right? Suga would never let them die, right? Oh but he’s probably sleeping. Nevermind. They’re dead.

_ “WE’RE TRYING TO SLEEP! DON’T MAKE ME GO BACK THERE!” _

“Sorry Daichi!!!”


	43. Happy New Year

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A chapter to celebrate the (almost) New Year.

“I...I can’t believe it…”

Kageyama watched the blizzard outside. The school was cloaked in white. Almost like a sheet had come over night, covering all the buildings and pathways. The snow was so thickly painted onto campus, your leg would've been submerged once you took a step. 

So they were stranded to say the least.

Karasuno campus was virtually empty, except for the few musicians who  took _ a bit _ too long getting their stuff ready for their trip home. And now that the snow had come...well, that trip home wasn't going ahead after all. 

“I don’t think we can go anywhere. We’re...snowed in,” Kageyama muttered, his hands feeling a little numb.

Just on cue, Hinata approached him with a mug of hot chocolate. When Kageyama took it in, his palms ached with the warmth. His boyfriend plopped next to him as they stared out the window together. 

“That means we get to stay here for New Years,” Hinata brightened, though Kageyama didn’t seem to mirror his excitement.

He sipped his drink, his tongue burning, “...yeah.”

“Suga-san said it was one of the snowiest days in Miyagi history! Isn’t that crazy?” he enthused.

“But it means we can’t go back to see our family,” the taller boy groaned, trying to cover his frown with the drink. “God, it sucks. I’ve been waiting for a whole year to see them. I wanted to sleep in my old bed; see my sister; sit in the kotatsu; have some soba; eat mochi; bring you along to meet my family. All that!”

“You were going to introduce me to your family?!” he leapt to his feet.

Kageyama cleared his throat, feeling heat rise to his face. “...yeah....obviously! Idiot! You’re important to me!”

“You’re important to me too!”

“Good! But it doesn't matter because we can't go back anyway!"

The bassist stubbornly gulped down the hot drink, feeling it burn his insides. His boyfriend pondered for a moment, his eyes lingering on the heavy snow outside.

“Well...we could make a makeshift kotatsu here? With blankets and our cases...oh! And that electric blanket we bought the other day from the mall. Remember?”

Kageyama’s lips were a little pouted. “...the one from Tokyo?”

“Yeah!”

He blinked, his eyes a tad glassy. He was a homesick boy that wanted to desperately escape. It was claustrophobic in here. “Yeah...I’d like that.”

So they did just that—Hinata grabbed their instrument cases and set them up against their beds. Kageyama opened up the new electric blanket they’d bought together in a mall in Tokyo. And the two of them tried to set it up together.

“Mmm, it was a good decision to buy this,” Kageyama commented, ripping open the cardboard.

“I told you so! And you said it was useless,” Hinata took both of their blankets and folded them underneath his arms.

“Yeah, well I thought we’d go back home for the winter so…” he trailed off into silence. Kageyama weakly set up the electric blanket over the cases, making sure that it spread out evenly.

The shorter boy gave a sincere smile, tossing the doonas on top. That was it—their kotatsu. They couldn’t rest anything on it since it wasn’t exactly a table but they could stick their legs underneath it. And it would feel super warm. 

Hinata and Kageyama stuck themselves underneath it, sitting on either end.

“Ah,” the saxophonist let out the most comfortable, blissful sigh. “This is soooo gooooood!”

Kageyama stared down at his exposed feet. “....yeah….”

“Oh,” he pursed his lips. “I didn’t realise you were...this tall.”

“Sorry I’m not short like you,” he poked.

“Hey! I’m not short!”   


“Yes you are! You’re a tiny little thing.”

“Hey! Well I can still grow! I've been drinking milk and–"

Kageyama glanced away, “...but you’re my little thing.”

Hinata paused, his lips starting to quiver, "Aw!" he leaped over, instantly crumbling their kotatsu in the process. “You’re the best Kageyama!”

“Idiot! You just ruined the—” 

When he glanced down, he saw his overly joyful boyfriend clinging to his chest. _Ah that face._ His smile that looked as if he could barely keep it together. The way his eyes crinkled shut. And the redness on his cheeks.

“Oh well.”

✦✦✦

It was around 2 hours in when they got a knock on the door. The two of them were lying in bed, cuddled up in each other’s presence as they chatted away about the future. About being 2nd years. About who’d be band captain. Who would be band captain in their year when they became 3rd years. What they’d do when they became musicians. Everything and anything.

Soft music played through their room from Kageyama’s phone which got accidentally stuck in a cup. 

Hinata shuffled out of Kageyama’s grasp, the taller boy whining a little as he did so. He opened the door to find a familiar smile.

“Suga-san?” 

“Hi Hinata,” he brushed off the snow from his trench coat. “Hi Kageyama.”

Kageyama stood to his feet when he noticed Suga shiver. “Aren’t you cold senpai? Please come in.”

“Ah, thank you,” but the moment his eyes landed on the mess—the fallen bed sheets, the tangled chord of the electric blanket, he paused. Then stared back in confusion. “What happened here?”   


“We were trying to make a kotatsu,” Hinata shrugged. “Didn’t work.”

“Clearly…” he chuckled. 

“Well what brings you here?” Kageyama snaked around his boyfriend and handed over a warm cup of tea for his senior. Luckily, the jug had recently boiled.

“I was wondering if you two wanted to come over to Daichi and I’s dorm. We were going to celebrate New Years together since none of us could go home,” he explained, taking small sips. “A lot of the other students are already over—Asahi, Noya, Tanaka, Ennoshita. And I tried texting you earlier  but no one got back to me so I had to get here myself.”

“Yeah, we got it stuck in a cup,” Hinata said. 

Suga blinked. “What?...I...I’m not even going to ask. Either way, would you two like to come?”

“Yeah! Right, Yamayama?” the shortest boy enthused, his expression completely lighting up.

Kageyama gave a sigh, sinking into his feet. “...yes.”

The oldest musician took notice for a moment, but brushed it off for the meantime. 

“Make sure to wear a warm jacket. I know it’s close but it is heavy out there,” he explained. “Oh, and bring everything you need. I think you should stay over at ours.”

“Would we all fit?” Hinata asked.

“Hopefully. Third year dorms are a little bigger than this. We have a pull out couch, and Asahi has a free room too,” he elbowed Kageyama playfully, making the first year snap back into reality. “We’ll be fine. Okay?”

“Yeah...okay.”

“Ah, and we need to fetch Tsukishima and Yamaguchi,”

✦✦✦

Asahi sighed to himself, unzipping his suitcase to reveal the neatly and tightly packed contents inside. The second years looked over his shoulder and melted into surprise.

“Woah! You have so much stuff in here!” Tanaka exclaimed, his hands grabbing at the top boxes. “Toshikoshi soba?! Amazake?! Mochi?! How did you fit a whole jubako in here?!”

The third year chucked awkwardly, “I saw them all in Tokyo and wanted to bring it to my family....but I obviously can’t so I guess we’ll—”

“Thanks Asahi!” Nishinoya shouted, his eyes glistening with glee. “We can have Toshikoshi soba for dinner, Osechi in the morning,” he pumped out his chest. “And I make a mean mochi.”

“I-I think we’d make a mess if we made the mochi here,” he laughed. “It’s okay, I bought premade ones.”

Nishinoya pouted.

Ennoshita joined the conversation, his hands filled with icy mandarins. “I have these as well. A little old lady sold them to me in Tokyo.”

“Ah, we’ll have an authentic New Years right here then,” Kinoshita beamed, sitting on his knees.

Narita hummed, “And we get to watch the snow. It won’t be so bad after all.”

The second years exchanged smiles.  _ I mean, they could do everything they normally do but with friends instead, right? That sounded pretty good. _

The door knob turned as the first years and Suga entered the room. It was so much warmer inside (probably because the boys insisted that they’d turn up the heater to the max).

“Ah, Suga,” Daichi walked over from the kitchenette. He was pretty preoccupied by making them all tea, but was quick to drop it when he saw his partner. “I’m sorry you had to go out in the cold.”

“It was fine,” he chuckled, brushing off the powder snow. “It was pretty freezing out there though.”

Daichi handed him over a mug of tea which he instantly took into his hands. His palms were scorched. “Ah, thanks.”

Asahi smiled while watching from afar. “I’m glad they’re finally getting along again.”

Ennoshita agreed, “Mmm, Karasuno isn’t the same without those two.”

“I wonder what happened,”

“Maybe something happened at Tokyo band camp. That “Kiseki” piece was...something,” Ennoshita reminisced about that moment. The bright lights. The slow motion dust particles. The brief moment of silence before the applause. It was something new, to say the least. 

“Yeah…” Asahi muttered in awe. “It was unforgettable.” 

✦✦✦

Kageyama leaned over the verandah, amazake in hand. The snow lightened up a little, just enough so he could make out the moon, but barely enough. They were still stranded on campus, with no buses or cars running due to the danger. 

He sighed.

“Hey, can I interrupt?” Suga slid open the door and stepped into the cool, winter night air. 

The first year tried to pull a smile, “Hi.”

“Just thought you’d be cold out here so I brought a blanket,” he flashed a heartfelt smile then spread out the soft cotton over his slim body. 

Kageyama flushed a little pinker as he awkwardly shifted the blanket over his shoulder. “I’m fine, Suga-san."

“I’m sure you are, but I don’t want you to freeze out here,” there was a brief silence. “So, you’re missing your family?”

“Did Hinata tell you?”

“No, I just figured,” he pursed his lips. Kageyama fidgeted with his cup. “...because I miss mine too. We were supposed to go on a family trip in a week, but I don’t even know if I can leave campus by then. The weather forecast isn’t looking so good. It sucks really. We go every year after all.”

“That...that doesn’t sound good,” Kageyama mumbled.

“Yeah, well,” he shrugged. “It is what it is. I would’ve loved to go since it’s a yearly tradition but, I’m here right now,” Suga peered inside. The boys were all cheering as Daichi and Asahi opened up the mochi. He grinned. “And they’re my family too. So are you.”

He straightened his back, the blanket nearly falling from his shoulder. “Me?” 

“Of course,” he nudged. “I see you everyday, we have meals together, we share deep conversations—that’s family to me.”

_ Family. Them. Karasuno orchestra.  _ He couldn't help but to compare it to how he felt in middle school. Probably the loneliest period in his life. He used to watch his bandmates go to dinners without him, never bothering to even invite him as hey chatted loudly about how much fun they'd have. He used to miss every inside joke that the band would laugh about everyday. He used to walk alone on the path, while every musician brushed path him and ignored him. 

But what hurt more was that aching in his chest. Especially as he sat alone on his bed, curled up over his graduation papers, left to cry alone as everyone else went out and celebrated together. No one remembered him. No one seemed to want him either. He couldn't really blame them, but at the same time, he didn't want to admit that he was wrong. And he didn't have the heart to apologise.

Kageyama sighed. 

But at least he was here now. He was sharing amazake with his band as they celebrated New Years together. He had a supportive boyfriend that loved music alongside him. He had friends that laughed with him. And really, a family that celebrated everything he did. 

He gripped his mug tighter. “...Suga-san.”

“Hmm?”

“Thank you,” words couldn’t describe how he felt. There was something fluttering in his chest and it felt warm and soft. It was...comforting. 

“I’m always here Kageyama-kun. Ah, we should head inside soon. I might start making toshikoshi soba,”

Kageyama gasped like an excited kid. “Really?!”   


“Well, it’s New Years after all.”

Kageyama smiled. He didn’t feel so claustrophobic anymore. 

✦✦✦

_ “Ah, could you move over Noya?” _

_ “I’m trying! There’s no space,” _

_ “Hinata, sit on my lap,” _

_ “No! Kageyama there will be no inappropriate—” _

_ “Suga calm down, it’s just because we have no space,” _

_ “Yeah Suga. Why don’t you sit on Daichi's—?” _

_ “Shut up Tanaka.” _

The boys hurried to their positions around the mini TV. They could barely see the small thing. With no space around the TV, or on the pillows on the ground, they were basically stacked up on top of one another. 

It was 11:58. 2 minutes until the New Year. 

The TV’s bright lights flashed. The camera panned to a large bell at a nearby Miyagi temple with virtually no people waiting around. Unlike the millions of people that usually wait to watch the Joya-no-Kane live, the heavy snow seemed to ward a lot of them off.

“This is it," Daichi muttered. 

00:00.

The New Year began with a gong that echoed through their whole room. 

_ “Happy New Year!!!” _

The boys hoisted their amazake in the air. 

They could barely wait for what was ahead. The endless possibilities. Meeting new people. Building new skills. Improving grades (hopefully). More pieces. Spending time with the people they loved. Going on trips. Graduation. The Spring Festival. Potentially Nationals. 

“Woah!” Noya leaped to his feet. “Look at that!”

The boys hurried and squeezed onto the small verandah. Above them were fireworks—colourful, vibrant fireworks that resembled flowers. 

It reminded them of those fireworks at the summer festival, which seemed centuries ago now. Before the Tokyo camp, before some of them were even together, and before all the practicing they’ve done. Back when they were much younger.  _ In those moments you appreciate how far you’ve come. How much you’ve had to sacrifice and how much you’ve invested. And now, how much you’ve gained from those hardships. _

And when Hinata looked up at Kageyama, whose features were softened by the fireworks behind him, he could see everything—his past, present and future. He grabbed his hand.

“Hm?” Kageyama looked over.

Hinata stretched out a wide grin then grabbed his chin and kissed him. 

_ Happy New Year.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year guys! I know 2020 was a pretty disastrous year, but I'm proud of every single one of you guys for making it through it all. Always remember, you've survived 100% of your bad days. 
> 
> Let's hope 2021 will go much smoother.
> 
> Love you all!


	44. Tomoni

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little Bokuaka chapter to start the year right.

Akaashi warmed his hands with his breath. It was one of the coldest Tokyo nights. He walked along the empty, dimly lit streets, his eyes focusing on the barely visible stars above him. The world felt entirely empty. What existed was the sound of his heels on the concrete and the plastic bag bouncing against his thigh.

Bokuto had come over to his house for dinner since his parents were gone for the weekend and the third year excitedly jumped at the opportunity to spend the night with him. And being the distracted, lovestruck idiot he was, he forgot to buy the soy sauce. So there he was, in the middle of the night, walking alone. 

_ I’d never have to cook if I lived in a dorm. We’d have a cafeteria.  _ He heard that Karasuno lived in dorms. He wondered how interesting that would be, living on campus together. Seeing each other everyday. It felt like a dream. 

Akaashi turned the knob and entered his house. It was painfully bright inside. He could hear Bokuto quickly rise to his feet and scatter towards the entrance. 

His hair was messy; excess chips were stuck to his lips; and his shirt was awkwardly sitting on his shoulders. Akaashi laughed. 

“Akaashi!” he was jumping like an excited puppy. “I told you I should’ve gone with you!”

“No, no I didn’t want to be bothersome since I made the mistake,” he took off his shoes. “I needed to clear my head anyway.”

“Why?” his eyes followed Akaashi as he entered the living room, loading off the soy sauce at the dining table. Bokuto hadn’t touched the food yet, as if he was patiently and politely waiting until his partner got home. He smiled at the thought.

“Because a lot has been on my mind lately,” he stripped his coat and hung it on the chair. Bokuto followed. They were like a couple. A perfectly picturesque couple, eating together at the dinner table after a long day of work. Though in this instant, they were on holidays so they virtually did nothing all day. 

“Why?”

He sighed, lifting his chopsticks. “You should eat before it gets cold.”

Bokuto frowned, his back slumped over. “...okay,” he peered up with a pout. “I was just worried.”

_ Stop it. Don’t. Don’t look that—argh— _

“There’s nothing to be worried about,” he dismissed. "You don't need to take care of me."

"But I want to,” his cheeks were filled with food. Akaashi snickered. “Ah! Akaashi, did you enjoy the Tokyo Band Camp.”

“A little off topic, don’t you think? But, yes, I enjoyed it. It was interesting having Karasuno come. It changed the dynamic of the camp quite a bit,”

“I loved it too! Kageyama? That bass player? Ah geez his playing was, it was,” he looked like he was about to explode. “He was amazing! And Hinata? Wow that tiny kid can blow!”

“I’m glad you had fun Bokuto-san,”

“I had loads of fun!” he excitedly swung his feet like a little kid. “Oh! And when we performed,  _ wow _ . We sounded so good! And your drumming kept everyone so together. It was great Akaashi!”

His partner caved into a small smile. Bokuto was the only one that could make him feel like that. “Thank you. But our orchestra would be a mess without you.”

“Really?” his head sprung up.  _ He never compliments me. At least, properly. _

“Of course. You are a tuba player of course...a bass player—our backbone,” there was a brief silence. Akaashi lowered his chopsticks. “...it’s going to be different without you...when this all ends.”

“What do you mean?”

The younger musician gave a long sigh. “Well, you’re graduating Bokuto-san.  _ And _ we’re losing a lot of amazing musicians.”

“But there’ll be tons of new musicians too! Hmm...I am amazing and irreplaceable though,”

“Well of course..." _so funny._ "...it really will be different once you leave.”

_ Leaving. Leaving was a funny word. It was almost as if he was leaving...me. _

Akaashi knew—fully, fully knew—that it would never be the same again. A big part of their relationship was seeing each other everyday. From early walks in the morning, to lunch times, to the orchestra practices after school. With Bokuto entering adulthood and Akaashi entering a stressful third year, they wouldn't have time for each other anymore. No more listening to Bokuto ramble on about a seemingly boring story (though he had the ability to make everything sound so fun somehow). No more practicing music together. No more late night walks, where they'd talk about their dreams. 

“Well I’m not leaving you.”

_ But you are. _

He couldn’t help it. Tears curved down his cheeks. One by one. 

Bokuto sprung to his feet and rushed over, nearly toppling over in the process. “Akaashi? Akaashi? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing Bokuto, I just…” he sniffed. “Is it stupid? That I want you to stay? I’ve always known that you were going to graduate before me but—”

The older boy blinked. “You’re going to miss me?”

“Of course I am!” he gritted his teeth, having the urge to burst at the seams. “I’m going to miss you so much! What am I going to do without you?!”

Bokuto stopped. Then scrunched his hands into fists. 

“You’re going to lead the orchestra to a Nationals win!” Akaashi’s eyes widened. “Even when we all leave, you’re going to be there to lead the orchestra to an awesome win. And I’m gonna be there to watch it.”

“...Bokuto-san…”

“And you’ll be so happy when you look up at the stands and see me, smiling at you. Because I knew you could do it all along,” he smiled. “And then I’ll propose under the Tokyo sky tree and you’ll say yes, then you’ll leap in my arms and we’ll run away into the sunset.”

“Okay—”

“And then we’ll have an awesome spring wedding. Oh, and Kenma’s going to be the flower girl.”

“Bokuto-san,”

“Oh, sorry,” he shook his head and continued, “You’re going to be fine. You’ll be more than fine. You’ll be great! And I know, because I’m going to be there for all of it. Aren’t you excited?”

Akaashi parted his lips, but soon stopped himself. He could see it all—the blinding lights, the faceless crowd, the overwhelming silence. But in the far distance, he would spot Bokuto smiling at him, waving with all his might and jumping up and down as his biggest cheerleader. And despite the loneliness, the confusion and the turmoil he’ll face throughout the year, that one moment would be worth it. That one moment when he can see Bokuto, far up there in the stands, would mean every pain was worth it. 

He tried to grin for him. “Yes, I’m very excited…” his tone lowered. “...you’re going to be there, right?”

Bokuto bent down, kissing Akaashi’s forehead ever so lightly.

“No matter what.”


	45. Double Bass Sonatina

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kageyama gets an offer he can't resist.  
> Daisuga get to finally talk again.

The music room was almost bursting at the seams. Full, low notes pressed against the windows. With Kageyama’s steady, controlled strokes and Hinata’s supported and passionate blows, their combined sounds became a myriad of strength and warmth. 

A fermata. Then silence.

Hinata took a sharp inhale, letting the mouthpiece escape his lips. His chest burned with a sense of relief.

“Hey,” Kageyama spoke up, placing a short pencil on his partner’s stand. “Could you mark in the accidental at bar 46? I just noticed you missed it.”

“Ah, thanks Yamayama,” he smiled, quickly etching in his earlier mistake. “You know, we make a pretty good pair.”

“Of course we do idiot,” Kageyama pulled a face. “We always practice together.”

“Yeah, but I mean, we make a really good pair,” he gushed. “You know how I said I wanted to be a jazz musician?”   


Kageyama went back to his seat so he could look over his part.  _ I know I made a mistake at bar 93. Oh and the phrase at 98 to 103.  _ “...yeah?”

“I want you to be one with me,” 

The taller boy stopped. 

“What?”

“I want to play with you for a really long time Kageyama-kun. Maybe forever,” the sincerity in Hinata’s face could make anyone melt. Though in that moment, Kageyama knew he couldn’t let himself slip. “So I want to be a jazz musician with you.”

“Ah, Hinata,”

“You don’t need to give me an answer now. I mean, we’re first years and we have ages to think about this, right?” he sprung to his feet and approached him, open palm first. He pressed his hand into his shoulder and gave the brightest smile. “Hey, I’m gonna go get tea. You want me to get you some milk?”

He tucked his chin towards his chest and nodded.

“I’ll be back in a bit.”

As the door shut and he was left in the room alone, he let out the deepest sigh. It wasn’t like he  _ didn’t _ want to play with Hinata forever. But the thought of being a jazz musician—being a bass player at the back of a small stage, only playing at small venues—didn’t appeal to him. He wanted the big, open stage. He wanted to look up at the faceless audience. He wanted his sound to project to the very corners of the biggest venues in the world. He loved jazz, he really did, but that easy going nature wasn’t something he could do for the rest of his life.

He heard a knock on the door. Turning around, he found a peculiar figure by the entrance.

“Hey, sorry to interrupt your rehearsal,”

“Ukai Sensei,” he rose to his feet.

“Hey, hey it’s okay. You can sit down,” he chuckled, walking over rather casually. 

Kageyama straighted his back out of obligation, “D-Did I do something wrong?”

“Oh, no, not at all,” he laughed again. “Relax Kageyama. You’re fine. Actually, I wanted to say you’re more than fine. You’re great. Especially at the Tokyo band camp.”

“Thank you,”

“It seems like you really let go during Tokyo. Your playing reached a new level that I didn’t see coming. And so,” he dug his hand into his pocket and pulled out a monotone piece of paper. “I wanted to give you this.”

“What is it?” Kageyama looked down at it, feeling the shiny and smooth surface on his palm. 

“It has details for an audition for a Japanese rep band,” he explained. Kageyama immediately looked at him with complete confusion. “I think you should go for it.”

“I...what…?”

“Kageyama, you have a lot of potential. You have the natural born ability and the work ethic for it. It’s going to be just after the spring festival so make sure to keep those holidays open. I want you to go up to Tokyo and audition.”

He gave him a moment of silence to think about it. 

“Thank you Ukai Sensei,” he wanted to continue, but didn’t have the heart to.

“Oh, and don’t tell anyone. Especially Hinata,” he stood up. But with one look in his eyes, he knew something was wrong. “Don’t let anyone hold you back Kageyama. I know Hinata would be very happy for you if you audition. And he wouldn’t hold anything against you,” he slowly walked towards the door, leaving his student in silence. “You two are amazing together, I will never say otherwise. But you need to think about your own future too, Kageyama. It can’t be the two of you forever.”

As Ukai Sensei opened the door, Hinata came rushing in, just halting in time. With a bottle of tea in one hand, and milk in the other, he peered up at his conductor in confusion.

“Hello,” he blinked.

“Hey Hinata. I was just going.”

He moved aside for the smallest boy, who just looked at his boyfriend with a raised eyebrow.

Kageyama swiftly shoved the flyer in his pocket as he reached towards the carton of milk. “He was just helping me with the piece.”

“Oh,” he pursed his lips. “Okay! Wanna get back to practicing?”

“Of course.”

✦✦✦

Orchestra rehearsal went as smoothly as it could’ve. With the snow lightening up, many of the musicians could make it, but the strings, in particular, were lacking. And a lopsided orchestra never sounded as good as it could’ve. 

Suga sighed, packing away the last of the music stands. It was still the holidays, so he couldn’t blame the students for not wanting to come in the blizzard, though he was still disappointed at the lack of attendance. There was no way they could get their pieces together if all the musicians slacked off like this. 

“You okay?” Daichi nudged past him on his way to his case. 

“Ah, just disappointed. I really hoped more people would show up today,”

“Don’t worry Suga. I’ll give them a lecturing from hell next time,”

He cracked a smile.  _ It really was nice to have him back again.  _

The hall was empty. Only the two of them. Daichi dismissed a lot of the students so they could take a break, since there was no use in over practicing so when the full orchestra wasn’t there. He even shot down Hinata and Kageyama who usually stayed behind.

“Hey Suga, let’s not go to the cafeteria tonight,” Daichi randomly said as he swirled the keys with his pointer finger.

Suga raised an eyebrow, “Why? I’m absolutely starving and I could go for dinner to be honest.”

“I bought some at the convenience store the other day and I’ve been wanting to cook. It’s been a while since we’ve cooked together,”

“Oh? And you think I’m going to cook?” he teased.

Daichi blinked, “Well, I-I. You don’t have to if—”

“I’m just teasing. We’ll cook together.”

✦✦✦

_ “Could you pass me the salt Suga?”  _

_ “Ah, okay. Wait, wait it’s boiling over!” _

_ “What is?” _

_ “The pasta Daichi!” _

Their little kitchenette was filled with chaos.  _ I guess we forget how to cook.  _ It’s been forever since they had actually cooked together. Or cooked in general. So this was a complete mess.

By the time they had settled on their little dining table, they were dripping in sweat; their faces completely red.

“Well that was a hassle,” Daichi laughed, slumping down on his chair.

Suga snickered, grabbing the tabasco. “I forgot how to cook. It’s been so long!”

Daichi watched his roommate drown his pasta in the spicy sauce. “Lucky you bought all those bottles of tabasco in Tokyo, right?”

“Yeah. They were so cheap there,” the clarinetist beamed. “Oh, I wish I bought more of those strawberry chocolates though. I’ve already gone through half of the pack.”

“Woah, slow down,”

“Hey, they make a good studying snack!” he protested, his cheeks filled out. “Mmm, I miss Tokyo. It was amazing.”

“Do you want to go back?” 

“Of course,” 

“Do you want to go back soon?”

“How soon?”

Truth be told, they hadn’t talked like this in a while. Properly. Since they still resorted to small talk because of their...incident before Tokyo. Added on top of that, their busy schedules as they tried to piece together everything before the Spring Festival—they really had time just being with each other anymore.

“I mean, maybe after the Spring Festival?” Daichi suggested, his face a little blushed. “Once we’re,” he cleared his throat. “...together?”

“Together?” Suga raised his eyebrow with a small smirk on his lips. 

“Together,” he tried to say confidently. “I mean, once we make it to Nationals, right?”

“Right.”

Silence pooled between them. The two third years munched on their pasta, trying to process what they should say next.

“...I’m sorry,” Suga began. “For what I said before. I don’t want you to think I don’t like you. B-Because I do. It’s just…”

“I get it,” he replied. “I think I realised it after we played ‘Kiseki’ in Tokyo. I felt like we were...just so good, you know?” this made Suga chuckle. “Like we really had the potential to win Nationals. We just need a bit of a push.”

“Exactly!” his roommate enthused. “That’s exactly what I meant! It’s like we’re so incredibly close and we just need that extra push. _ I  _ need that extra little push,” he sighed happily, feeling a little more comfortable with Daichi’s understanding nature. “I’m sorry I didn’t say it correctly. I know I came across kind of cold. You mean so much more to me than some goal. You mean so much more.”

Daichi’s face flushed a little red. “You mean a lot to me too Suga. That’s why I can wait. I realised that I can wait for the rest of my life, if it meant I could…”

“...could?”

“C-Could. Ahh, ohh, you know,” the words got tangled in his throat. “C-Could, would be with you. You. Me. Together. Yes.”

Suga bursted out into laughter, his chest burning with relief. It made Daichi stiffen. “I’m looking forward to our first date.”

“Well I do have a long time to think about it,” Daichi joked.  _ Ah, that smile of his.  _ “I’ll make sure that it’ll be worth the wait.”


	46. Moonlight Over The Ruined Castle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Asanoya jealousy, Kagehina fluff and some ominous Seijou.

Spring Festival was right around the corner. This meant that rehearsals doubled; both in amount and time spent. Which most musicians really hated (except for Hinata and Kageyama obviously). But like, they really really hated it. More eye rolls and grunts whenever they got critiques. Slower movements towards their pencils to etch in their mistakes. 

Ukai Sensei didn't really know how to fix the problem. The orchestra definitely needed more rehearsals—they simply weren't ready yet. But at the same time, they couldn't get any proper work done when the students were like this. 

“Asahi,” the conductor glossed over his sheet music, feeling sweat drip from his forehead. “You need more _oomph_ with that solo in Arabesque. You open the piece but you sound soft and weak.”

“Yes sir,” the flutist said, a little defeated.

“And the strings. What are you doing in that middle section in Candide? It’s a complete mess. You’re barely in time with each other,”

Mutters of “yes” and nods spread throughout the section.

The conductor sighed, grumbling into his hand. “This isn’t coming together. We’re so close to the spring festival. Get. It. Together,” the orchestra froze like cement. “We need to practice more. Practice harder. We won’t get a platinum otherwise.”

“Sir,” there was a little mumble in the crowd. It was Yamaguchi, who timidly raised his hand. “How does the Spring Festival work?”

Ukai Sensei took a deep breath, trying to simmer his anger. “Well, each orchestra performs and gets either bronze, silver, gold or platinum. The orchestras aren’t ranked, but there will be a winner. And well, the winner gets to go to nationals.”

Another first year raised his hand for a question. “So if a lot of bands get gold, and no one gets platinum, what happens?”

“The bands that "tied" have to perform again. Usually another piece they haven't performed yet,” the conductor answered. “Any other questions?” he paused. “You’re all dismissed.”

***

“Ah Nishinoya.”

A second year shuffled over with his trumpet in one hand and his sheet music in the other. 

“What’s up Kinoshita?”

“Can you help me with this part? I don’t really get the melody here,” 

Nishinoya overlooked the 2nd trumpet part, noticing that the phrase was the same, though the notes were a tad lower. 

“Oh yeah, I can help you out,” he raised his brass instrument, then took the deepest breath. Nishinoya blew out a striking note, easily gliding up and down the direction of the melody. He somehow comfortably reached the highest notes, making Kinoshita’s expression melt in awe. The shorter boy casually lowered his instrument to his lap, completely unaware that the whole room was staring at him. “I think the tricky part is...here!” he glided his fingers over the bar. “I think making the staccatos even shorter makes understanding the phrases a lot easier.”

“A-Ah,” Kinoshita fumbled for his trumpet. “Thanks.”

“We can go over it together sometime?”

“Yes! Yep...that’s a great idea.”

Asahi watched from afar, his hands halting from taking his flute apart. Shaking his head, he kneeled down to his case, fetching his cloth to polish the metal. Suga noticed his parted lips and walked over to him.

“Oh? Is someone a little jealous?” the band captain joked, elbowing the other third year.

Asahi choked on his spit, trying to distract himself by cleaning his instrument. “W-What?”

“Aren’t you going to fight for your man?” 

“They’re just friends,” he slammed his free hand on his thigh. “And he’s not my man!”   


“Not with that attitude.”

The flutist snickered, trying to brush it off as another one of Suga’s funny jabs, but he couldn’t help but to watch Noya from where he sat.  _ Well, it’s not like I have any ownership over him. He can talk to, and be with anyone, really.  _

Kinoshita reached out and touched Noya's shoulder in the midst of laughter.  _ But that won’t stop me from wanting to punch this guy. _

“Asahi?” he snapped back into reality. “Are you okay? Your forehead is like…” he imitated him, the veins in his forehead popping and his eyebrows scrunched together. “Scary.”

“Oh am I?” he choked out an awkward chuckle. “Ha...ha, yeah I’m thinking about that Arabesque solo.”

“Hmm, you did pretty well today though,” Suga complimented. “Are you sure it’s about that?”

“Yep, yep. Solo,” he abruptly shut the case. “Let’s go to jazz band rehearsal. You ready?”

The clarinetist smirked, “Sure.”

***

Kageyama and Hinata wandered down the street, feeling the warm sun on their backs. The sky dyed the outline of their silhouettes an orangey-red. They had finally finished orchestra rehearsal, and were taking their time to go to their next rehearsal.

Though they would’ve usually rushed to get there, Kageyama suggested a longer route to rehearsals, wanting “a bit of fresh air” before he played again. And Hinata happily tagged along.

The bassist gripped the glossy flyer in his pocket. 

“Ah, I stuffed up Candide so hard today,” Hinata groaned into his hands, flinging himself around.

Kageyama let the flyer go. “Really?”

Hinata blinked. “You didn’t notice?”  _ Doesn’t seem like you. _

“Oh, I’ve been—”

Before he could continue, Hinata had lunged towards him, standing on the tips of his toes to try and press their foreheads together (though the shorter boy nearly tripped over in doing so).

Kageyama caught him. “What are you doing?”

Hinata peered up from his embrace. “Trying to see if you’re sick.”

“I’m not sick, idiot!” 

“What?” he pouted. “But your face looks weird.”

“Hey!”

“Not in a bad way. You’re still cute. But like sick, cute,” he explained, his hands waving about. “Sick but cute. Sickly but—”

“Okay, okay I get it,” he tried to calm him down. “But I’m not sick. I’m probably just tired.”

Hinata pondered. “Is it because I snored loudly last night?”

“Not any louder than any other night,”

“Is it because I tossed around too much in bed?”

“No, I trapped you pretty tightly in my arms,”

“Hmmm,” the harder he thought, the more his expression twisted and turned, and the more Kageyama blushed at his cute face. “I guess we have to sleep early tonight.”

The taller boy loosely played with the flyer in his pocket, but failed to properly grab it and show his own boyfriend. "Yeah. I guess we do."

"But," Hinata ran a little ahead of him. With the bright orange sky around him, almost swallowing him up, Kageyama swore Hinata looked like his future. "You'd tell me if something's wrong, right?"

His throat clenched in on itself. "Yeah."

***

Seijou’s practice room swelled with a full sound. It was like a kingdom slowly forming. Solid brick walls, a large fortress all surrounding a grand castle. And at the very top was Oikawa with a wide grin.  _ The King.  _ His weapon of choice—Viola.

As the final note echoed throughout the room, the imagery of the castle washed away, leaving Oikawa satisfied.  _ It was coming together. It was really coming together. And victory was going to taste so sweet. _

“Good work today,” Oikawa walked to the podium. This was his army in front of him; all looking at him with passion and trust. “We are going to win. It doesn’t matter what Shiratorizawa does. It doesn’t matter what Karasuno does. If we perform like that,” he stared directly at the band, looking at every single player. “No one will ever stand a chance.”


	47. None But The Lonely Flute

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tsukkiyama fluff to *ehem* because we've missed them. Also a little jealous Asahi.

“Tsukki,” Yamaguchi called, carrying a small teapot in his right hand and two mugs in the left.

His boyfriend moved aside for him as Yamaguchi calmly poured some green tea for him. 

The first years had studied for roughly 3 hours at that point. It was something they hated doing, especially on a Saturday, but with the upcoming semester test, they didn't have a choice. 

“Ah, thanks Yamaguchi,” he grinned, lowering his pen onto the page. His hands were cramped. They felt like brittle branches. 

“We should take a bit of a break,” the cellist suggested, taking Tsukishima’s hand in his own. He softly pressed his thumbs on his palms, trying to massage them. 

Tsukishima tried to snake his way to the test paper. “Yamaguchi, I need to finish this—”

“No, we’re taking a break,” he firmly planted himself onto his boyfriend’s desk. Tsukishima pouted. “You’ve been studying _really_ hard lately so you need to rest your brain. Also orchestra rehearsal’s been really really hard too.”

He groaned into his free hand. “Don’t get me started with orchestra. I’m so sick of it. My fingers feel so numb and weak.”

“Mmm we have been rehearsing longer and harder lately,” Yamaguchi hummed. “Well, the festival _is_ coming up.”

“I’m ready for it to end. It’s not like we can get to Nationals anyways,”

“Not if you say it like that,” he crinkled his eyebrows together. “Come on Tsukki, orchestra’s great. I don’t know why you’re so upset.”

“I’m not upset. I’m just tired,” 

“And that’s why we’re taking a break right now,”  _ checkmate.  _

Yamaguchi gleefully smiled to himself as he swapped Tsukishima’s hands around to then massage the other. He felt tense. But Tsukishima would admit that he felt much more relaxed when he was with Yamaguchi. It was like the other boy could straighten him out with one touch. 

“I don’t...I don’t actually hate orchestra,” Tsukishima admitted, his voice low like an embarrassed child.

Yamaguchi kept his confident aura, “I know.”

“How?”

“Because I’ve never seen you practice this much for something,” 

The violinist let out a little chuckle, letting his hands rest on Yamaguchi’s lap. His boyfriend, in return, slowly slid down so he was straddling him.

“I guess you know me too well,” Tsukishima said as his hands were guided around Yamaguchi’s waist. He was clearly nervous—with his crimson face and his shyness—but he still continued to shuffle a little closer, keeping a grip around his boyfriend’s wrists. 

Tsukishima comfortably rested his hands onto Yamaguchi's lower back. The way his fingers drummed up and down his spine was enough to send goosebumps through his entire body. He couldn’t help it; he cupped his cheeks and leaned in for a peck on the lips. Which turned into a kiss. Which turned into an even deeper kiss. Which turned into Yamaguchi pulling Tsukishima closer by wrapping his arms around his neck.

“I’m guessing it’s going to be a long break?” Tsukki jokingly asked, pulling away from the kiss.

A dazed Yamaguchi, with his lips parted and his eyes half open, muttered a small, “I guess” before reeling him back in. 

***

“Thanks again for helping me with this piece,”

“No problem!”

Kinoshita and Noya were rehearsing in the main music room. Though Kinoshita wasn’t the type to really practice his band pieces, with the spring festival coming up and finding that he was falling behind the talents of the first years, he felt like he needed to practice. 

“How do you do…?” Kinoshita ran his fingers over the sheet music, which finally had some markings on it. “Bar 96? It’s a bit hectic.”

The shorter boy leaned over and scanned it too. “You have the countermelody and I have the melody. So when you go up, I’ll go down and all that. It’ll be cool!”

“But how do you play it?”

“I mean, we’re basically playing the same thing but at different times so, let’s just practice together, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

They both raised their trumpets together, tuning for a moment, before swiftly playing the melody. Noya easily ran up and down the complex and demanding part. On the other hand, Kinoshita struggled a little. He cracked on the highest notes, and his embouchure seemed to give up on the lowest. 

He let go of the trumpet before even finishing the phrase. 

Kinoshita groaned to himself, fetching his pencil to make some scribbles on his page. “I can’t.”

“Don’t say you can’t,” Noya also stopped. “You can. You just need to push harder for the higher notes.”

“But how do you not crack when you get up there?”

“Tighten your lips and hold air in your stomach and your notes should go “wooop”,” he tried to explain, in his own unique way. “Like if you “fwoop”,” he sharply inhaled. “And then “dahhh”, you should get up there.”

The shorter boy stood up and went behind his back. Kinoshita embarrassingly blew through his trumpet, feeling a timid note come out. Noya laughed in a sincere way as he encouraged him to try again. 

The other second year gave a small smile before giving it another go. With a sharper inhale this time, he held the air in his lungs and tightened his lips. This time, he managed to hit a crisp, high note. His eyes widened. 

“I...I did it,” he muttered in disbelief.

Noya jumped to his feet, giving him a slap on the back. “Told ya!”

“Thanks so much,” he gleefully smiled. As he grabbed his pencil again to make a little scribble, he continued, “You’re sounding really good by the way.”

“Ah, thanks,” he pridefully pumped out his chest. “I’ve been practising.”

It was that unapologetic confidence which he fell in love with. He wasn’t cocky. He was that right amount of self-love and appreciation that stemmed from his good natured and hardworking (at least for music) attitude. 

“You know, with the spring festival coming up, I’ve been practicing day and night,”

“Have you finished your assignment then?”

“Uh…”

Kinoshita laughed, “Typical.”

“I’ll get it done in a week! I know it!”

“It’s due in less than a week,”

All the colour drained from his perky face. “...really?”   


“It’s okay, it’s okay. I’ll help you get through it if you come to the school library with me tomorrow afternoon,”

_ Nevermind.  _ The colour came back to him, more vibrant than ever. “Really?!”   


“On one condition,” he lifted his pointer finger. Noya listened obediently. “You’ll eat dinner with me today.”

“Easy.”

At the same time, the door knob suddenly turned. Daichi had thrusted himself in, with Asahi right next to him, their instrument cases in hand.

“Hey,” the band captain approached them. “We’ve got the room booked out now.”

“Oh, I totally forgot about the time,” Noya quickly rushed to his case, taking apart his mouthpiece from his instrument. Kinoshita reluctantly did the same. “Sorry.”

“Ah, no problem,” Daichi began to unzip his own whilst Asahi shuffled into the room. “What were you practising?”

“Arabesque,” the two boys answered. 

Kinoshita added on, “There was a difficult part that Noya was helping me with."

Daichi smiled, “Good on you Noya. That’s actually the piece we were planning to work on today. Right Asa—?”

As he turned around, he saw Asahi’s discoloured face. It was like he was holding his breath so no air reached his brain. And because of that, he was this off coloured bluey-purple. That crooked brow of his didn’t exactly help the image either. 

“Y-Yeah,” the flutist piped out. 

“Asahi-san! Are you going to work on your amazing flute solo?” Noya yipped. He was always like this—so excited and so intrigued by what Asahi did. Heightened even more since it was about music. 

“Yep, sure am,” the third year chuckled, fetching his music. Despite his smooth demeanour, he could feel his feet pulsing with anger. “Maybe you can practice with _me_ next time.”

Kinoshita cut in, “Maybe you can join  _ us _ next time. Since, you know, Noya and I play the same instrument.”

“Ah, but Noya and I’ve been playing for years.  _ Right _ ?”

“I—” Noya tried to answer, but his fellow trumpeter butted in.

“Yeah, but what’s the point of practicing with another instrument? You need to get your section together first.  _ Right _ ?”

“Sure, but Noya really helped me with my solo. He actually snuck into my room once and we—”

“Okay that’s enough.”

Daichi lunged in between them, flexing his hands to spread them apart. “Let’s get practicing.  _ Right _ ?” he mocked, raising his bow. Kinoshita and Noya tilted their heads down, feeling the weight of the third year’s dominating nature. They both politely left the room, Noya lingering for a moment to give Asahi a small grin, which he just noticed in time. Daichi sighed. “He snuck into your room?”

“It sounds worse than it was,”

He raised an eyebrow, “Oh really?”

Asahi gulped. “I swear I didn’t touch him. At least, not in that—”

“Just play already.”


End file.
